


the endless blue

by eyeronicmuch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous time setting, Exes, Flowers, France - Freeform, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, a copious amount of sea references, implied depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25949122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeronicmuch/pseuds/eyeronicmuch
Summary: Jaehyun is a retired writer who lost himself, but with Doyoung and his weekly flowers, maybe things will be all right again and he might want to try again
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 48
Kudos: 159
Collections: jaedo digest: vol. 2





	the endless blue

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #074 – try again/poetic beauty x i give you my heart-inspired au: jaehyun is a novel writer who used to be the sweetest boy ever, but with doyoung and his flowers, maybe things will be all right and he might want to try again.
> 
> dear prompter! i know this might be a little different from what you expect but i still sincerely hope you enjoy this ;; 
> 
> i would like to say a huge thank you to the mods for organising this fest and a separate thank you to vee for helping me through all the rewrites and plot changes and just generally for hearing me out and providing helpful input i appreciate and love you sm
> 
> warnings: implied depression, a lot of smoking and drinking, mentions of homophobia (not from anyone but from like,, society)

The plane takes off at steady speed. It’s an early morning flight, the kind of flight Jaehyun absolutely detests, across the ocean. It makes Jaehyun remember how much he hates airports and airplanes: the shouting in terminals, the cramped space between seats, the miserable food, everything. When the pilot announces turbulence and the plane jolts, Jaehyun thinks how comfortable it would be, for a change, if the plane now crashed, how definitive. However, they land safely hours later, and Jaehyun is instantly struck with the warm breeze as he steps outside the airport with his luggage.

Jaehyun hails a taxi and after half an hour arrives at his hotel. His suite is spacious, with a balcony and a stunning view of the endless sea. Jaehyun leans on the railing of the balcony and gazes at the moon. He lights a cigarette, watches the smoke he exhales dissipate. He feels very tired. 

He leaves the balcony window open as he goes to sleep, not bothering with the air conditioner. It’s hot, but not unbearably so. Jaehyun falls asleep to the sound of calm waves against the shore.

He wakes to sunlight caressing his face. It makes Jaehyun squint. He’s forgotten how early the sun rises in summer. He slowly gets up, gets ready, shaves. When he looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns. He slept fairly nicely, but he doesn’t look well rested. 

On the way to the hotel restaurant, he spots a familiar figure sitting by one of the tables. Jaehyun sits in the chair right across the person. Nakamoto Yuta doesn’t seem to notice him at first, too busy with spreading butter over his bread.

“Ah,” Yuta says finally, “Took you long enough to wake up. Good morning.”

“I had a long flight yesterday,” Jaehyun says instead of a greeting. A waiter pours him a glass of water. “What are you doing here in my hotel right in the morning?”

“I had to check up on you,” Yuta says, “You did come here for me after all.”

“And I already regret it,” Jaehyun sighs. He puts a napkin over his lap and orders an omelette.

“No, you don’t,” Yuta smiles, “You love France.”

“I do,” Jaehyun admits, “but I don’t see the reason for attending the film festival.”

“Because you’re a wonderful person who’s here to support a friend,” Yuta replies, “besides, you haven’t been seen in the public eye in a while. People talk; they wonder what you’ve been up to for the past five years.”

“Let them talk,” Jaehyun says nonchalantly. He has had enough of the public recently. “It’s not like I’ve been thrown off the radar or anything.”

“Well, you kind of have. You haven’t published anything in years.”

Jaehyun sips on his water. “I know.”

Yuta’s gaze is heavy on him, but he doesn’t say anything more. Yuta continues eating his breakfast. The food is fresh and tasty, but it’s not enough to surprise Jaehyun or make him glad he’d listened to Yuta’s plea. Jaehyun thinks, with the lack of surprise comes a downfall of the human spirit. 

“What are your plans for today?” Yuta asks.

“I have no itinerary,” Jaehyun says, “I was thinking of renting a car today. I could drive around the coast.”

“Sounds good to me. The festival is in two days anyway, you should enjoy your stay.” 

“Cannes is overrated,” Jaehyun decides to say, “I prefer Étretat.” 

“There’s a reason as to why certain things are overrated, especially if they’re related to fame,” Yuta grins, “but I didn’t think you’d get tired of fame so soon.”

“Soon?” Jaehyun laughs, “It’s been over a decade since I was roped into this mess. You, out of all people, should sympathize with me.”

Yuta nods, “The industry is an ugly thing, for sure. It creates masterpieces, but I hate what it does to its creators.”

Jaehyun writes the bill onto his suite number and he and Yuta step outside the restaurant onto a promenade.

“What is your picture on?” Jaehyun asks. 

“I’m glad you’re finally showing curiosity in my work,” Yuta teases and Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “It’s based off of Lee Taeyong’s play,” Yuta says, “I was in the theatre coincidentally on the opening of his play, and I didn’t have much to do, so I got tickets to it and I loved it.”

“Really?” Jaehyun says, “That’s a nice coincidence.”

“You could say that.” The breeze from the sea ruffles Yuta’s long hair. Jaehyun notices, even after years, Yuta hasn’t changed much. He still experiments with fashion and he likes to keep his hair long, which means his pictures must be just as abstract as Jaehyun remembers. If anything has changed, it’s the eye bags under his eyes and the faint traces of creases on his forehead and wrinkles around his mouth. Beauty is not immune to age. As youthful as Yuta acts, age catches up to him, and the years of working in the film industry don’t hide themselves on his face. Jaehyun wonders how he must look to Yuta. Does Yuta see his tiredness? Silly question, of course he does.

“So then I met Taeyong backstage,” Yuta continues, “and he agreed to create a movie with me. We worked on it for a year and a half…” But Jaehyun already isn’t listening. They walk along the beach, on the pavement but a step away from the sand. Jaehyun takes the step. 

“I’m going to go to the waves,” he says, interrupting Yuta.

Yuta grins at him, “Your love for the sea hasn’t changed.” 

“You haven’t changed,” Jaehyun retorts.

“You have,” Yuta replies, “A lot. It’s like I don’t know you anymore, but it’s only been, what, three years? Two years? Since we met up last?”

“I don’t quite recall,” Jaehyun says truthfully. “To be honest the days and months have all been so blurry to me. Yesterday is today, today is yesterday. What are two years to me? Just another blur.”

“Such is the fate of all creative persons,” Yuta says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He gives Jaehyun a firm handshake, one that they should’ve had when they just met and not when they’re about to part, but with Yuta, things have always been non-linear. Jaehyun gives Yuta a smile and a wave and watches him walk towards the direction of the hotel and catch a cab.

Once Yuta and his suit are out of sight, Jaehyun walks towards the water, feeling how his feet sink a little because of the sand with every step he takes. The beach isn’t that crowded, and Jaehyun enjoys the time he spends in solitude. Once close to the water, he gets hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. The crystal water, the warm sand, the company next to him; lingering touches, bright smiles, open hearts; but that was years ago. Jaehyun doesn’t take off his Oxfords or roll up the ends of his trousers to step into the sea like back then, he doesn’t look for nacre seashells or get them handed in return to keep as a memory, but instead stares at the endless horizon, hands in his pockets, posture straight. His gaze doesn’t waver. He stares at the deep blue.

Time changes but the sea remains a constant, is Jaehyun’s passing thought as he turns back to the hotel. He takes a shower in his suite, changes, and then walks to a car rental, rents a Mercedes for a week and drives off to Antibes. 

It’s a thirty minute drive down familiar roads. Years ago, Jaehyun used to come here a lot, and not alone, when he was at the peak of his fame. It had been an anticlimactic couple of years that followed after, but again, Antibes looks just the same. Jaehyun parks his car across an old bar. 

He orders a scotch and soda. He notices familiar faces come and go – after all, Cap d’Antibes is a hotspot for celebrities – hoping they won’t notice his presence. The only mood he’s in for a conversation is with the bartender, currently. 

It’s a shallow conversation until Dong Sicheng sits on the barstool next to him. He’s a man of tall stature, high cheekbones, feline eyes and full lips, that make him look years younger than he actually is. 

“Jaehyun,” he says politely, “long time no see.”

Jaehyun nods. “Certainly.”

“I heard from Yuta you might be here.”

Jaehyun laughs, “I knew he’d guess I’d come here.”

“You always did,” Sicheng says. His eyes seem impossibly sharp. As a star actor, he seems to glow even in the dimmest of bars. “What brings you here? Have you been writing?”

Jaehyun shakes his head, “I’m here for Yuta’s movie. And no, I haven’t. You know me.”

“It’s a shame,” Sicheng expresses sadly, “I always re-read your books.”

“I appreciate that,” Jaehyun smiles. “I’m assuming your career is thriving.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” Sicheng says, “You don’t look like you’re thriving at all.”

Jaehyun shrugs. “It is what it is.” 

Sicheng sighs, “You know, Jaehyun, as many films as I’ve starred in, good ones and very good ones, adaptations of books or plays or originals, I still patiently wait for the day I get to star in a movie based on your novel.”

Jaehyun gives him a small smile, “I really can’t tell you if there’ll be chances of that happening. Would you like a drink?”

Sicheng nods and Jaehyun gets him a whiskey. 

“No,” Sicheng says after taking a gulp of the alcohol, “you don’t understand, Jaehyun, the industry needs you. You have no idea what kind of crap movies and plays and books are written these days. It’s revolting. It’s shameful. It’s just not the same without you. You– how can I put it? You had a passion no one else in the industry has, you kept things moving, you had ideas and you turned them into beautiful works. You made them alive.” 

“Had is the keyword here,” Jaehyun says. He props his chin on his hand and sways his glass, feeling bitter. Passion is a funny word to him.

“Have you really not published a single work?”

“I’ll tell you more, I haven’t written a single word.”

Sicheng puts a hand on his shoulder. It feels more heavy than reassuring, but Jaehyun cracks a smile. Sicheng was never good at comforting others, just like Jaehyun, but he finds the gesture sweet nonetheless. 

“If you ever write again, do send me your drafts. Promise me I’ll read them first.”

“No promises,” Jaehyun grins. “Promises are hard to keep.”

“You’re still a man of principle,” Sicheng laughs, “It’s good to see that you haven’t changed at all.”

Jaehyun thinks back to when he and Sicheng worked together once. It was around six or seven years ago, and Sicheng was a rookie actor, with wide eyes and a lot of enthusiasm. Jaehyun had already been in the industry for a while, and he could only wish he possessed the naivety Sicheng did. Sicheng and he were born in the same year, but sometimes, Jaehyun felt like he was much older. Right now, though, taking a good look at Sicheng, his now mature composure and the same tiredness behind his eyes, Jaehyun can say they’re finally the same age. 

Words don’t need to be spoken for Jaehyun to understand that Sicheng is not the same young clueless actor he used to be. Although handsome, he has considerably aged, not physically, but in his stance and speech and manner. Again, it makes Jaehyun think that this industry is doomed to ruin everyone.

“It’s a wonderful night tonight,” Jaehyun says after a refill of their glasses. “However, I must go soon.”

Sicheng gives him a nod. “Tell me where you’re staying, I’d like to have brunch with you sometime. We need to catch up on so many things.”

Jaehyun says, “It’s the hotel by the big fountain. And please, don’t tell anyone I’m here. I’m planning to fly back after the festival.”

“Alright, I won’t,” Sicheng says, but Jaehyun knows he will. Jaehyun hugs him and walks out.

The moon is bright. It hangs low in the sky, above the horizon. Jaehyun thinks about everything that has happened tonight. He gets inside his car and without turning the radio on, he drives back. He rolls his windows down to catch the breeze that mixes with the salty sea air and revels in the quietness of the night. 

In his hotel, he sits on the chair on the balcony and stares at the sea for what seems to be hours, immersed in the serenity. The waves clear his mind in a way nothing else can. Jaehyun falls asleep quickly that night.

—

The next day he sees Yuta right outside his hotel lobby, smoking a cigarette. He’s wearing a high tailored suit and a frown. 

Jaehyun asks, “Nervous?”

“Like hell,” Yuta replies, sparing him a glance and then settling his gaze back on the ground. He taps his foot in anxiety.

“The festival is tomorrow, you’ll be just fine.”

“I don’t know”, Yuta says, “we submitted our film, but what if people don’t like it?”

“Since when have you cared about what people think?” Jaehyun teases, an eyebrow raised .

Yuta crushes his cigarette under his foot. The smell of smoke on him still lingers. “Everybody cares, Jaehyun, especially when it comes to one’s craft. Even if they say they don’t, deep down they all do. Art is a vulnerable thing. It craves validation and approval.”

Jaehyun pats Yuta on the back, hoping it’s enough to reassure him. “You’ll be great.”

Yuta says, “I’d better be, my reputation is at stake. I really do hope you’ve brought a nice suit with you or something.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jaehyun says, “I came prepared just like you asked.”

“Good. Are you going out for a walk?”

“I got a call from Sicheng earlier; he invited me to lunch. Want to come with?”

“Ah, Dong Sicheng,” Yuta says, “I think I remember him. Alright, I’ll come. I could use some whiskey right now.”

“We’re not going to a bar,” Jaehyun replies.

“But you will drink,” Yuta says. It’s a statement. 

“Maybe so,” Jaehyun laughs. “I’ll drive us both.”

“All directors and actors and writers start drinking in broad daylight sooner or later.” 

Jaehyun opens the car door for Yuta and then for himself. It’s hot inside the vehicle, the summer Sun heating up the leather seats almost unbearably so. Jaehyun briefly wishes he didn’t have to go anywhere right now. He drives out onto the street. 

Yuta is not as talkative today. He stares out of the window onto the coast, deep in thought, hands clasped together. Must be the stress, Jaehyun thinks. It’s funny, how Yuta’s confidence wavers like weather in spring. He’s known the man for years, yet Yuta never fails to surprise him. 

Sicheng is already in the restaurant by the time they arrive. He sits with his menu in his hands, hair slicked back, looking professional and very out of place for such a modest restaurant. He gives Jaehyun a bright smile and Yuta a more polite one. 

“Ah, you’re with company,” is what he says. He is, too. Beside him sits Qian Kun, another actor Jaehyun had worked with years ago. He has a kind face and strong eyebrows, a sharp jawline and his pitch black hair almost reaches his eyes. As far as Jaehyun knows, Sicheng and Kun are good friends. “Do sit down.”

“Good afternoon,” Jaehyun says politely. Kun stands up to shake his hand, then Yuta’s. Yuta then shakes Sicheng’s. Jaehyun and Sicheng share a hug. “Very nice weather today.”

“Indeed,” Kun says. Jaehyun somewhat expected no company, but he knows Sicheng has a big mouth. He wonders who else might know of his arrival to France. 

Jaehyun orders lamb. With alcohol, Yuta becomes talkative, just how he normally is. He fills the table with easy conversation, allowing Jaehyun to not speak. So Jaehyun listens. 

“I’ve heard you’re starring in Lee Ten’s new movie,” Yuta says. 

“Both of us, yes,” Sicheng says. “We play a couple.”

“Controversial,” Yuta smile. “I like it.”

“Oh, you will,” Kun says. “It’s a fantastic movie.”

“Ten is quite the director,” Yuta says. “I shall be looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Especially to the after party,” Sicheng quips.

“Especially that.” 

Jaehyun sips on the wine. He’s never been much of a fan of festival after parties, but it was a good way to make connections, so he went. But now, he doesn’t need to make any connections, and he doesn’t want to meet any old acquaintances either. 

“Jaehyun, don't you dare think you’re not coming,” Yuta says, as if reading his mind. All Jaehyun can do is sigh. “I will drag you by the ear if I have to.”

“Alright, alright,” Jaehyun replies, dread starting to form at the bottom of his stomach.

“Only for a while,” Yuta says then, more kindly, “I’m sure people would love to reconnect with you.”

Jaehyun politely nods. Sicheng pays for their meals, and later they separate ways with promises to see each other tomorrow at the Festival.

“I’m quite curious about Ten’s movie,” Yuta tells Jaehyun on the way to the car. “His works are always controversial, but god if that man doesn’t know how to make glorious movies.”

“He doesnt think art is vulnerable,” Jaehyun comments. 

Yuta frowns a little at that. “That was low.”

Jaehyun smiles, “Get in the car. I’ve seen enough of you for today.”

Yuta huffs, but does as he’s told. They drive along the coast to Yuta’s hotel. Yuta tells Jaehyun to not be late as a reminder as he steps out of the vehicle. 

Jaehyun spends the rest of the afternoon on his suite’s balcony, watching the steady waves. He smokes around three cigarettes, the anxiety he tried to keep at bay in the restaurant finally washing over him. Yuta is not the only nervous one. Jaehyun had picked up smoking several years ago as a way to relax himself even though it doesn’t do much, even though he hates the aftertaste of smoke in his mouth. He swirls the burnt cigarette between his fingertips and momentarily gets filled with a sense of resentment for himself, but it soon dissipates into contentment, just like the smoke. 

Jaehyun has dinner alone in the center of Cannes in a quaint restaurant, further away from celebrities and closer to civilians. He’s not recognized; people come and go as fast as fame rises and falls, and it’s disheartening but also not. It was quite hard for him to get used to invisibility after years of exposure, but most of all it made him anxious. Anxious that someone might notice him, might ask about him, where’s he’s been, his career, his autograph. Anxious that he’s so easily forgettable. He orders a bottle of wine, and once the buzz of the alcohol kicks in the anxiousness dissipates. A little tipsy, Jaehyun thinks this evening is a marvellous evening as he walks back home on the cobble pavement as the warm breeze caresses him. The moon shines brightly.

—

Jaehyun stares at the suit he’s brought with him. It’s personally tailored and of a deep burgundy colour. It’s new, too, because he can afford new expensive things. He gels his hair and powders his eye bags first before he puts it on. He looks in the mirror and frowns, no matter how much powder he puts on, he can’t get rid of the purple under his eyes. His face itself looks too pale, and Jaehyun thinks that even a blush won’t save him. He smokes a cigarette on the balcony, and then while berating himself for ruining his lungs it suddenly hits him that he still doesn’t know how to tie bow ties, or any ties in general. He’s always had them tied for him by long, meticulous, caring hands Jaehyun can’t seem to forget. The memory of the touch that once used to cool Jaehyun down, now burns. 

Jaehyun wonders whether Yuta would tie the black bowtie for him. Probably he would if Jaehyun asked.

Yuta had promised to pick him up at four in a black limousine. It arrives right on time. The chauffeur opens the car door for Jaehyun as he takes a seat. He sees Yuta along with whom he assumes is the playwright Lee Taeyong, sitting across each other. They’re both dressed up for the occasion.

“Jaehyun, hello,” Yuta smiles. 

Jaehyun sits next to Taeyong. They exchange polite smiles. Jaehyun has heard about him and his work, but he’s never met him until today. Taeyong, with his sharp eyes and strong features, looks very intimidating. But then, he says, pointing to Jaehyun’s palm, “Your bowtie… Would you like me to help?”

Jaehyun nods. Taeyong carefully ties it for him. “There,” he smiles, his voice kind and caring, “all good.” He and Yuta are the same age, Jaehyun assumes. Taeyong is handsome, and Jaehyun envies his healthy skin and the bright gleam in his eyes.

It’s a quiet ride to the red carpet. Yuta looks evidently stressed with each growing minute, hands clasped together and forehead sweating that even Taeyong has to calm him down, but once they step out to the paparazzi, Yuta puts on a blinding smile that makes Jaehyun think all media stars are actors in a way. Jaehyun puts on his own façade. He hears gasps of surprises upon his arrival, hears people call out his name, and it all should be familiar, it should make him feel good about himself, but it doesn’t. He ignores the reporters and the blinding lights as they make way to the entrance.

They show Yuta’s movie some time in the middle. It’s good, with a non generic plot about crime and mystery. Yuta has his gaze focused; his jaw is clenched only slightly, unnoticeable to the public eye but as clear as day to Jaehyun. He puts a comforting hand on his thigh to ease his nerves. Yuta acknowledges it, but says nothing more. Taeyong looks quite satisfied, eyes shining like he‘s seeing everything for the first time, like his craft has been developed and polished further. 

“How is it?” Yuta asks him halfway through it.

“Very good,” Jaehyun whispers back.

Jaehyun won't say it out loud, but it’s not one of Yuta’s best works. Perhaps because it’s collaborative; Jaehyun knows Yuta is capable of doing better. Or perhaps outdoing himself was not Yuta’s intention, but creating something the general public would be appealed to is. It’s most likely the latter option, Jaehyun thinks, when he hears how loudly the audience claps. 

Jaehyun goes out of the theatre hall for a smoke. He thinks he really ought to wrap it up with the habit as he takes out a cigarette and a lighter. He spots Lee Ten a few feet away from him, also a cigarette between his lips. They nod at each other. Ten’s face is calm and collected, although his almond eyes are sharp and his stance is confident. His black hair is parted to the side; a tattoo peeks out from under his collar. Jaehyun puts out his cigarette after a minute and returns to the hall. 

Yuta and Taeyong are in conversation, not acknowledging Jaehyun. Yuta looks more relaxed, and Taeyong is smiling. Jaehyun sits back and watches the lights dim as another movie starts playing. Sicheng appears on screen. Jaehyun sees Ten’s illuminated face in the audience not far away from him, Kun and Sicheng himself beside him. It’s a beautiful movie, about a failed romance, and the plot makes Jaehyun’s stomach sink and head spin. He puts a hand on his temple. He feels Yuta’s gaze linger on him from time to time, almost in concern. 

The movie feels too excruciatingly long. Jaehyun sits through the applause and thinks he needs another smoke. However, after it, Yuta circles his arm around his waist and leads Jaehyun to the dining hall. 

The after party is grand, with a fourchette and music and everything aristocrats love. Jaehyun more or less composes himself, plasters a signature smile and makes small talk with people. He gets offered champagne, the glass of which he holds in his hand but can’t bring himself to drink.

“This was very nice,” Taeyong says. 

Jaehyun can only nod. Taeyong looks like he fits right into the picture between fondants and champagne bottles and the live music. Yuta, too, looks like he belongs, however Jaehyun feels quite of place. His head is beginning to hurt from the noise, but he doesn’t let it show.

At some point Yuta and Taeyong start conversing with other media figures about their movie, which leaves Jaehyun alone to observe. A number of people recognize him, after all, he was a public figure, too. He thinks, he’d rather be in his hotel room than here. Anywhere but here.

“Good evening,” Ten says to him as he approaches Jaehyun. He’s alone again, and this time their interaction is less awkward. Up close, he looks more friendlier than intimidating. Up close, he looks quite kind. 

“Lovely movie,” Jaehyun says, pushing down his melancholy. “Very well done.”

“Not many would agree,” Ten says, plucking a fruit from the banquet table and offering Jaehyun one, “considering the plot, but I’m glad you liked it.”

Jaehyun gives him a polite smile. 

“Where are Sicheng and Kun?”

“With other actors, I presume,” Ten replies. “They’re the stars here, after all.”

Jaehyun cracks a laugh and searches for them in the room with his eyes. 

And then Jaehyun sees it in the far distance, in between the crowd – a glimpse of a lean figure with raven black hair, cat-like eyes, plush lips that Jaehyun had kissed many times. Only for an instance, for a second too long or too short, their gazes lock.

Jaehyun grips his glass.

“Are you alright?” Ten looks at him curiously. Jaehyun realizes he frowning hard.

“Ah, yeah, yes,” he says, snapping back. “I’m alright, don’t worry.”

Jaehyun’s heart races in anxiety, threatening to leap out of his chest. He stands with the same polite expression and smile, but his hands tremble a little. His mind races with long forgotten memories and a sense of overwhelming fright and guilt he didn’t know existed. His head starts hurting even more.

Jaehyun needs to go home right away. But he stands and makes small talk with Ten, Sicheng, then Kun, more actors, more directors, more public figures. 

It’s an impossibly long while later when Yuta notices Jaehyun’s change in behaviour.

“Are you quite alright?” he asks. 

“You said I could attend the afterparty for a little while,” Jaehyun says quietly. “That little while is over now.”

Yuta nods in acceptance. “Alright. I’ll call a cab for you.”

Jaehyun says a quick goodbye to Ten and everyone and goes outside the venue. Nervously, with still shaking hands, he can’t stop himself from lighting a cigarette. Could have he been imagining things? Impossible. He’s seen those eyes far too many times to have mistaken them for someone else’s. He needs to stop smoking. He had missed those eyes incredibly. His lighter isn’t working properly, it flickers but doesn’t hold the flame. He feels anxious again, all of a sudden. Where is his taxi? He feels suffocated. The cigarette finally lights up. Jaehyun brings it to his lips. One inhale, one exhale, and he relaxes finally. 

A black taxi arrives moments later. Jaehyun gets right in. Once he gets to his suite, he opens a bottle of scotch and tries to forget he had seen Doyoung tonight. 

—

It’s a sunny day. Perfect for walks around the city or drives around the coast. Jaehyun is at a restaurant with Ten, who earlier had called his room number, asking if he was free. Jaehyun had an inkling as to why Ten would be interested in seeing him, but he was still more or less intrigued. 

“Are you here for a while?” Ten asks, a glass of wine in his hands. Ten is rather posh, preferring to dine in expensive places and drink expensive wines. Ten has a certain likeness to grand things, and he’s not humble about his fortune. He goes all out with everything he does, be it renting mansions for parties or spending heaps of euros on movie production. 

“I don’t have a return ticket,” Jaehyun explains, “so I’m here for a while, yes. It’s nice here in France.”

“I see,” Ten says, “I heard you used to frequent here a lot.”

“That is true,” Jaehyun replies, “You could say France was my second home.” 

“Why the past tense?”

Jaehyun smiles, “It’s complicated.”

Ten has a certain gleam in his eyes and a lazy, polite but welcoming smile that Jaehyun doesn’t like; it’s like he’s waiting for Jaehyun to spill him all of his secrets. 

“You can say it’s because of my declined career,” Jaehyun says eventually. Ten nods in understanding, or more in sympathy. Jaehyun thinks he’s being pitied.

“That’s unfortunate, really,” he says. “I’d always wanted to work with you.”

Jaehyun sighs a little, “It was supposed to happen sooner or later. After a peak always comes a downfall.”

“And after a downfall come another peak,” Ten retorts. “Five years is enough to get back on track. What _have_ you been doing for the past five years?”

Jaehyun laughs, “Not writing, that’s for sure.”

Ten finishes the bottle of wine, “Again, a huge shame.”

“I don’t know, Ten. Maybe I’m just not cut out for all of this.”

“My friend, you are one of the best and most famous authors of the decade. How can you say that?”

“I never asked for recognition.”

“All artists crave recognition for their work,” Ten says. 

“You’re right, in a way,” Jaehyun agrees. “I didn’t get it for my last book,” he states.

“There we are,” Ten smiles. 

“I spent three years writing it,” Jaehyun frowns. “God, Ten, three goddamn years. For practically nothing.”

“I always tell myself that if someone didn’t like my work it’s simply because they didn’t understand it, and that already isn’t my fault.” Ten says. The words don’t sound arrogant coming out of his mouth, they sound melodic. If Ten is full of himself, he does it gracefully. “I must shamefully admit I haven’t gotten around to reading your latest novel, but I am sure it’s grand.” 

Jaehyun feels himself smile. “My, you’re good. I see why people admire you.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Ten laughs. 

Ten is a year older than Jaehyun, yet he’s so much more youthful, Jaehyun notices. He has kept and conserved the energy Jaehyun has lost long ago, and as much as Jaehyun wants to say he and Ten are similar he knows fundamentally they’re both very different. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Jaehyun says.

Ten is rather amiable, despite all odds. He’s painted as a controversial, experimental man by the media and as a confident, almost arrogant man by people Jaehyun’s worked with, however Jaehyun thinks they’re equals of sorts. Artists of different crafts. 

“Come to my party tonight,” Ten grins, “I rented out a villa. Not far from a beach. You’ll love it.”

“I don’t know, Ten. I’m not the party-loving man I used to be five years ago,” Jaehyun says, “But I’ll come if you insist.”

Ten nods. “We all outgrow ourselves. But sometimes, we leave a piece of us behind. I’ll mail you the address; I suggest you get a taxi since there will be a lot of alcohol.”

Jaehyun says, “We drink too much for our age.”

“Considering our professions, we don’t drink _enough_ ,” Ten retorts and brings a glass into the air for a toast. “For us. For our health and prosperity.”

Prosperity. Jaehyun hasn’t been prospering for a while now. For the past five years he’s been existing, somewhat. He travelled around the globe, living from hotel room to hotel room, without a permanent home. He could afford to do so, but travelling to all kinds of countries did not bring him joy. It wasn’t an epiphany for Jaehyun to come to a realization that not much brought him joy anymore, it was a rather sad revelation. He drank to it. He drank a lot.

It didn’t bring him joy either, but it also didn’t bring him pain. A glass of scotch here and there eased Jaehyun’s mind, made him forget about his sad reality that he was once everything but now he was nothing. 

A lot can happen to a person in a month, in a year, in five years. Jaehyun noticed these little changes in Yuta, Sicheng, even Ten. He wonders, what do they see when they look at Jaehyun? Do they see the same Jaehyun he sees when he looks in the mirror? Do they see the dark bags under his eyes, the creases around his mouth, his slightly sunken cheeks, the pale colour of his skin, the constant smell of cigarettes on him? 

Jaehyun drinks a glass with Ten, then another. Ten is talkative, at times Jaehyun feels like he can’t keep up. He feels drained after each restaurant visit with his acquaintances, and it wasn’t something he had experienced before. He was always chatty, the center of conversation; reporters often mentioned how delightful Jaehyun was to talk to, but now– Jaehyun is just tired.

Perhaps Ten had been right about outgrowing oneself, because Jaehyun certainly feels like parties are not for him anymore. Five years ago, Jaehyun frequented parties all the time. He wasn’t any more fond of them than he is now, but he had the energy for them. But now, the swarm of people and the loud music make Jaehyun’s head spin and throb, and even at the entrance to the mansion, Jaehyun feels oddly out of place.

The mansion is huge, located on top of a hill with marble steps leading to the entrance. There are limousines parked in the area, and music already can be heard from the inside. Jaehyun steps into the life he once had. The hall is with high ceilings and crystal chandeliers. He sees Ten step atop a spiral staircase, conversing with some individual. Ten flashes him a smile and a wave. He looks like the star of the evening, which he most likely is. 

Jaehyun walks up the staircase as Ten walks down, and they meet somewhere halfway. Ten looks bright, his smile blinding.

“You look good,” Ten says, “Thank you for coming.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“Let’s get the tension out of your shoulders, yeah?” Ten says, nice and easy. He puts his hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder and squeezes lightly, to further prove that Jaehyun’s muscles are stiff.

“I got the drill,” Jaehyun laughs, thinking how Ten must perceive him as someone tired, “who’s here?”

“Why, everyone is,” Ten grins. He leads Jaehyun to the ballroom, where the majority of people are present. 

“This place is humongous,” Jaehyun comments, observing the iconic columns at the sides of the room and frescoes on the ceiling. There are musicians performing Latin Jazz on a stage, there is chattering and there is paparazzi and alcohol. 

Women are dressed in beautiful gowns, men are dressed in high-tailored suits. They all wear Venetian masks on their faces.

“You didn’t tell me this was a masquerade,” Jaehyun says.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Ten says, “Here, put this on. Take it off only after the waltz.” 

Jaehyun takes ahold of a blue and golden mask in feathers. He puts in on. “So, this is like a ball.”

“You can say that,” Ten says, “I love balls.”

“The music is not quite fitting,” Jaehyun points out. He sees Ten put on his own mask; it’s extravagant, just like him. 

“We’re just warming up right now,” Ten replies. “Go get some champagne. You’re too cranky.”

“Must be the age,” Jaehyun says.

“You’re younger than me,” Ten sighs.

“Your soul is forever twenty,” Jaehyun replies. He takes a glass of champagne and drinks it all. Jaehyun thinks his soul must be ancient. He kind of envies Ten for being so bright, so alluring, so amiable. Jaehyun thinks, in comparison to Ten, he must be dull.

“That’s more like it!” Ten says. “I’ll not be far. Do walk around, talk to people. Relax, Jaehyun.”

“Will do,” Jaehyun smiles, a little strained. The surroundings are too loud for his ears. Jaehyun can hear each footstep, each glass shattering, each laughter. 

He gets his glass filled again, after which he walks around. He walks out onto the balcony where it is much quieter and watches people under him step out of their rides. He sees couples pose in front of photographers, sees people as young as in their twenties and as old as in their middle ages. It makes Jaehyun bitter that he’s closer to being middle aged than twenty. He once thought he was on the brink of death when he had turned twenty-five. But nearly ten years later, he’s still alive. Despite all odds, life goes on and time doesn’t stop. The world doesn’t stop spinning even for one second even if Jaehyun desperately wishes it would. 

The summer night is warm. There’s a wind blowing softly from the East, and it’s not cold. The mansion is located not far from a beach, and even from on top of a hill Jaehyun can hear the lulling waves. 

It’s calming.

Jaehyun feels a presence beside him. He doesn’t need to turn around to tell that it’s Yuta. Yuta is wearing a purple mask with glitter, which looks oddly fitting on him. Yuta’s hair is curled, and his smile is always bright.

“Hey,” he says, “fancy seeing you here. I thought you would go to the airport right after the festival, so this is quite the surprise.”

“Ten invited me,” Jaehyun says, giving Yuta a hug. “I couldn’t refuse.”

“How’s the party so far?”

Jaehyun shrugs. “I can’t say much, honestly. I’ve been to hundreds of parties over my career.”

“You look nostalgic.”

“That I do,” Jaehyun laughs. It’s the nagging feeling at the back of his mind, always telling him he’s missing something. It hasn’t left him ever since he stepped foot in France, and it seems like it won’t leave any time soon. It makes Jaehyun uncomfortable more than it should. 

“Don’t sigh so sadly,” Yuta says. He gives Jaehyun a sympathetic pat on the back. “Let’s go dance, put your mask back on.”

By the time they’re back in the ballroom, the music has changed. A slow waltz plays. People break up into pairs and dance in the center of the room. Yuta says, “Come on.”

He puts Jaehyun’s hand on his waist, puts his own hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder. The mask Yuta is wearing only covers his eyes and nose, it doesn’t conceal Yuta’s grin. Jaehyun spins Yuta around to the sound of the violins. Yuta’s a professional at ballroom dancing, so he has no problem with slow waltzing either. He moves with grace to the melody. The scene looks like a real masquerade. Before Jaehyun’s heart can skip a beat, the music speeds up and the pairs change mid-move. Yuta ends up with another partner and Jaehyun holds a woman in his arms. She’s pretty, Jaehyun can tell, from the long flowing hair to her smooth neck and bright red lips. 

Jaehyun twirls her, too. It goes on like that until he’s danced with most of the people. His current dancing partner spins him around and then Jaehyun suddenly comes chest to chest with a man in a black and white mask. Jaehyun almost loses balance, but the man catches him. Wordlessly, Jaehyun places his hands on the man’s shoulders and they dance close together. 

The man’s hold on his waist is gentle, almost nonexistent. He has raven hair, broad shoulders and a prominent adam’s apple, and Jaehyun’s breath hitches. Suddenly everything is burning. Jaehyun almost flinches, as if scalded. He hadn’t expected to see Doyoung here, moreover dance with him. Doyoung doesn’t look too pleased himself. His lips are pressed into a thin line. He looks like he’s holding himself back from pushing Jaehyun away in order to not mess up the dance. 

It’s suffocating, because Doyoung doesn’t speak. There is no room to speak in the middle of a dance, but it doesn’t lift the tension that has settled in between Jaehyun and Doyoung. The music starts playing faster just like Jaehyun’s thoughts quicken. 

The room feels like it’s spinning. Jaehyun can only focus on Doyoung’s hand on his waist and shoulder, on the fast melodies, on how tired he feels. Why is he dancing? He doesn’t like to dance. He hasn’t danced in years. What if he steps into Doyoung’s feet, suddenly messes up? Doyoung is just as tall and broad, Jaehyun thinks. The mask look good on him. The music is too fast. Doyoung must hate him. Jaehyun needs to slow down. He needs everything to slow down. 

The music stops for a while. Only then does Jaehyun feel like he can breathe. He’s panting, and he feels that his palms are sweaty, and he can’t look at Doyoung. He’s glad the mask covers most of his face, however it doesn’t cover his eyes. And Doyoung’s eyes, as big and wide as Jaehyun remembers, don’t look happy. 

It takes Jaehyun a moment to collect himself. A part of him is in disbelief that Doyoung is actually right before him, like it’s such a far fetched possibility Jaehyun needs to make sure he’s real. 

They stare at each other. Jaehyun brings a shaking arm to Doyoung’s face, cradles his cheek under his mask. Doyoung steps away from him. Under the mask, his gaze has turned into a glare. Jaehyun’s hand falls back, limp, as he sees Doyoung walk away. The music starts again. A lady takes Jaehyun by the hand, but Jaehyun isn’t in the mood to dance anymore.

He apologizes and leaves the room. It feels too suffocating. He grabs another glass of champagne on the way and wishes he had brought his cigarettes with him. He walks into a garden with a pool. It’s far less crowded, so Jaehyun can exhale finally. 

Doyoung’s touch still burns. Everything still burns.

Jaehyun then takes off his mask. He looks at it, at the feathers, hopes they’re faux, then he looks at the sea in the distance.

He walks along the perimeter of the garden, south of the mansion, where the sea could be seen. He thinks of going back and looking for Yuta but decides to enjoy the silence. The moon looks bigger than usual today. Its craters form a permanent sad expression, and Jaehyun thinks the moon must be just as a sad as him. 

He sees a figure not that far away from him. It’s Doyoung, who is looking at the moon. Jaehyun wants to turn away, but Doyoung notices his presence, and Jaehyun feels obligated to make small talk. Feeling uncomfortable, Jaehyun walks up to him, stands not to close but not too far either.

“Lovely evening tonight,” Jaehyun says.

Doyoung spares him a nod. Nothing more. He looks passive, expression calm. Jaehyun looks at his side profile, then at the sea. The waves look calm, too. Only Jaehyun feels like there’s a storm brewing inside himself. 

The summer night air is fresh and the breeze that blows from time to time is warm; Jaehyun looks at Doyoung’s side profile again and says, “It’s been a while.”

“You don’t say,” Doyoung replies, voice calm and laced with remnants of bitterness. It’s been six years since they’ve last seen each other. Six long years. Doyoung doesn’t look much older than Jaehyun remembers. It’s like he’s been frozen in time, untouched by its cruel fate. He’s still so handsome, Jaehyun feels his stomach drop.

“How have you been?” Jaehyun tries to keep the conversation going. It’s funny, how just over a couple of years Jaehyun conversation skills have all wilted away. 

“It’s nice that you’re interested enough to ask,” Doyoung retorts, and Jaehyun’s stomach drops even more at the harshness of his tone. “But I’ve been well, thank you.”

“Ah, that’s good to hear.”

It’s awkward in a way Jaehyun thought he’d never feel around Doyoung. He was everything with Doyoung: shy, hesitant, bold, but never awkward. Doyoung’s brows are creased and he’s frowning. His arms are crossed; Jaehyun knows he’s displeased. 

“Are you angry at me?” Jaehyun asks. 

Doyoung replies, calmly, “I’m not.”

“It sounds like you are.”

“I am bitter, yes,” Doyoung says, “but I’m not angry anymore. It’s been years, Jaehyun, I’m over it.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? Is that what you have to say?” Doyoung’s eyes are scrutinising, they look judging, but Jaehyun notices that behind them there’s a twinge of sadness, just like in the craters of the moon. More than anything, Doyoung is hurt. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun says, because he is. He feels immense guilt and shame in front of Doyoung, who had loved him so much. He sounds convincing enough, because Doyoung seems to relax a little. 

He sighs. “Let’s just drop it. We should be civil. It has been years, we should catch up with each other.”

Jaehyun nods, pensive.

“What are you doing here in Cannes ?” Doyoung asks. His tone is less sharp, like he’s forcing himself to be amiable. “You haven't been to France in a while.” 

“I’m here for Yuta and his movie,” Jaehyun says softly. “And you?”

“Same here. For Ten.”

“Ah.” Now things make much more sense. Why Doyoung was at the after party, why he’s here now,

Doyoung nods. The wind ruffles his hair, exposing his forehead. Six years can do a lot to a person. Some people shrivel, some bloom. Jaehyun thinks that Doyoung looks good. He looks more confident, more put together. He has an aura of maturity and wisdom around him. Jaehyun can’t help but wonder what Doyoung thinks of him right now. A part of him doesn’t even wish to know. 

It’s quiet. Talking to Doyoung for the first time in years proves to be more difficult than Jaehyun had initially thought. Despite acting friendly, Doyoung puts up a visible barrier between them, not letting Jaehyun up close. They can only settle on small talk, like two distant strangers that are seeing each other for the first time, like everything that had happened between them never happened. In a sense, they are like strangers. The prospect of that leaves a funny aftertaste in Jaehyun’s mouth, but he has no rights to feel regret. 

“I’ve read your book,” Doyoung says suddenly, quietly. 

Jaehyun stays quiet.

“Your last one,” Doyoung continues, “The Endless Blue.”

“What did you think?”

“I told you it wouldn’t sell.”

Jaehyun cracks a laugh, probably the first one for this night. He doesn’t bite back. 

Doyoung looks right into Jaehyun’s eyes, expression stern. “You’re a fool.”

“Maybe so,” Jaehyun sighs, looking away. Doyoung’s gaze bores into him.

“A goddamn fool,” Doyoung says again.

A lull falls between them, strangely comfortable and oddly familiar, and Jaehyun can’t help but blurt out a, “I’ve missed you.”

For a second, Doyoung’s expression wavers. He changes the topic. “I heard you quit writing.”

“I did,” Jaehyun replies.

Doyoung asks, “Why?”

Jaehyun shrugs, “Some things just don’t work out.”

“To be frank,” Doyoung says, “meeting you here and hearing you say this is not what I’ve ever expected.”

“Are you disappointed?”

Jaehyun can’t read Doyoung’s eyes. Doyoung is quiet for a second and then asks him, “Do you really not write anymore?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. Something in the atmosphere shifts, he can tell. Doyoung no longer looks guarded, he looks concerned, almost. 

“I just couldn’t,” Jaehyun answers honestly. “Not again, after everything that has happened.”

It takes Doyoung by surprise. “I’m sorry about that,” he says quietly. It’s meant to sound sympathising, but turns out sounding distant to Jaehyun.

Jaehyun thinks of all the possible gaps between them as he waves him off. “Don’t be. It happens.”

“It was your everything.” 

“Everything changes,” Jaehyun says.

“Yes, but… not like this,” Doyoung says. “Not this suddenly. Not this abruptly.” He looks at Jaehyun and asks, “Jaehyun, are you okay?”

It’s then when Jaehyun realizes that Doyoung’s eyes are not scrutinising, but observing. 

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look like it,” Doyoung says. “You look, honestly, like shit.”

Jaehyun runs a hand through his hair, amused, “Is it that obvious?”

“No, not really,” Doyoung says, “but to me it is.”

It seems, that no matter how many years have passed, to Doyoung, Jaehyun has always been an open book, and always will be. Jaehyun smiles a little at that, although his head fills with overflowing thoughts. 

“You look good, though,” is what he says – because Doyoung does: he looks full of colour, full of life, full of everything Jaehyun lacks.

Doyoung laughs, humoured. “Don’t divert the topic.” 

“I’m just tired today,” Jaehyun half lies, “It’s been a long evening.”

Doyoung nods, although his posture remains unconvinced, “You should go back then.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” 

Ten walks up to them, his Venetian mask on top of his head. He’s holding a glass of alcohol and his cheeks are flushed. 

“There are you are!” he says, “I’ve been looking for you both.”

Jaehyun steps away from Doyoung, although he’s sure Ten caught them talking close. Doyoung plasters a polite smile. “Hello, Ten. Is the party still in full swing?”

“Oh, you bet. We’re here until sunrise,” Ten laughs. “Have you seen Kun or Sicheng around? I lost them completely.”

“No,” Jaehyun answers, “They might have left.”

Ten sighs, “Ah, that’s a shame. Don’t tell me you’re planning on leaving so soon, too.”

“I am quite tired,” Jaehyun says, “Not to offend.”

Ten waves him off, “You’re an old soul, it’s okay. I am glad you came. Let’s see each other soon. Adios!”

Jaehyun watches Ten walk away. He does indeed feel very tired. Doyoung notices the stoop of his eyes, the sigh he lets out. Doyoung probably has noticed how he’s changed, he thinks, how tired he gets, how quiet he’s become. At least, Doyoung’s the only one who cares enough to ask, which is both funny to Jaehyun as it is sad.

They walk back through the mansion, past the hall with the high ceilings and marble steps. There are still heaps of people present, the air full of voices and chatter which makes Jaehyun purse his lips together. It’s so loud. He notices Doyoung’s gaze on him, observing and heavy. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jaehyun says to Doyoung. 

“Like what?”

“Like you’re pitying me.”

“I don’t,” Doyoung answers, “I just worry for you.”

Jaehyun says, “You always worried too much.” 

“And you always brushed things off. You know what? Let me give you a ride back.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. It’s late, and he doesn’t see any taxis around the mansion, and walking down the hill is too much work for him.

“You have a car here?”

“It’s not mine, it’s Ten’s. He gave me his keys, just in case.”

“Okay.”

Ten’s car is a black cabriolet. Jaehyun thinks cabriolets are the best types of cars for the south of France. Doyoung starts the car while Jaehyun buckles his seatbelt. Once Doyoung drives out onto the coat, the sea breeze envelops them.

The ride is quiet. Doyoung focuses on the road. Jaehyun reclines a bit in the front seat, cranes his head up to watch the stars. The elephant in the room is suffocating Jaehyun minute by minute. 

“These feels just like in the good old days,” Jaehyun says to lessen the tension, “You, me, and the coast.”

Doyoung hums, one hand on the steering wheel. “Now’s not the time to get reminiscent.”

“Five in the morning is always a good time to get reminiscent. Let’s stop by the beach.” Jaehyun says. “We can watch the sunrise.”

Doyoung glances at Jaehyun, at his exhausted face and indulges him. “I don’t see why not.”

Doyoung steers the car off the main road and onto the sand, almost, on a deserted beach without any people. It’s very quiet, serene even. Jaehyun thinks, no matter how many times he watches the waves lap slowly at the shore, he can never get tired of it. He basks in the tranquility. The sun slowly starts to rise, filling the sky with other earthly colours.

“This feels so nice,” he says. “Remember when we once came to the beach at sunrise?”

Jaehyun had awoken Doyoung at six in the morning, dragged him to the sea. They were at a resort, and it wasn’t in France, but it was magical all the same. The sun was blood red, and the water was so incredibly warm. Sunlight fell onto the palm trees and the mountains somewhere far away, and it was so beautiful. Doyoung had groaned and complained about losing sleep, but once his feet touched the warm sand and even the warmer sea he had smiled slightly. Jaehyun curled his hand around Doyoung’s; they sat on the wooden pier. It was just the two of them besides empty sun lounger chairs and umbrellas. Then, Jaehyun dived into the sea head first, and Doyoung followed after. It had been many many years ago, Jaehyun lost count, but the memory is still so vivid in his mind. The warmth, the rising sun, the red from the sun rays mountains, Doyoung. 

“Don’t speak,” Doyoung says, bringing Jaehyun back to reality. “Just relax.”

“I am.” Jaehyun reclines more into the seat. 

The sky is cloudless. The sun rises slowly, mirroring itself in the sea. It’s pretty, Jaehyun thinks, how the sun rays touch Doyoung’s face and hair, it’s pretty how he shines in those golden colours. Doyoung is like the morning sun, pink and bright, not hot enough to burn Jaehyun but warm enough to make him feel alive. When Doyoung turns his head to look at Jaehyun, Jaehyun feels his chest grow heavy. Doyoung is so beautiful. He reminds him of the Doyoung back then, from the time they were at the resort. They look almost identical, only now this Doyoung is more grown, mature, and he’s a stranger. 

“How do you feel?” Doyoung whispers, “How’s your head?”

“It’s alright,” Jaehyun replies, “You didn’t have to indulge me.”

Doyoung smiles a little. It’s the kindest he’s looked today. He pats Jaehyun’s shoulder in a friendly manner. They really do act like strangers. 

Jaehyun returns the smile. He can live with that. He’s broken Doyoung’s heart once, and Doyoung has broken his in return. The pieces never really glued themselves back together even as the years went by. 

“We should go to sleep,” Jaehyun says, ignoring the gnawing feeling of melancholy deep in his stomach, “It’s quite late.”

Doyoung nods, steering into a highway and driving Jaehyun to his hotel. They sit close together, but to Jaehyun Doyoung feels so far. It’s nearly morning by the time Doyoung parks in front of the hotel. Jaehyun thanks him for the ride.

“It’s no problem,” Doyoung says honestly, “It was nice seeing you again. It’s been so long.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “Same here.” He doesn’t ask Doyoung if there will be a time where they’ll see each other again, because there most likely won’t be. Today seems like a glitch in the system, an accident that Jaehyun and Doyoung crossed paths at all. 

Doyoung once warm gaze feels distant now, however the concern in his eyes is still lingering. Jaehyun doesn’t like it, Doyoung shouldn’t care this much when they’re not together anymore. 

Doyoung says, “You should take care of yourself more.”

Jaehyun nods. “I will.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Doyoung continues. “And you reek of cigarettes. It’s disgusting. When did you pick up smoking? You were always against it.”

“I know,” Jaehyun sighs, smiling at Doyoung’s concern despite himself. “I did it to relax.”

“Does it really relax you?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Jaehyun says, “but the habit has stuck.”

“You’re so careless,” Doyoung huffs. “Discarding your health like this. Why?”

It’s like falling back into familiarity, Doyoung nagging Jaehyun for the little things like many years ago. It should tug gently at Jaehyun’s heartstrings, but currently it just pulls and pushes and it hurts. He doesn’t like where this is going. He shrugs. “I don’t really care anymore.”

Jaehyun must sound outright sad, because Doyoung’s expression drops and moulds into something serious. “Alright. Let’s talk,” he says. 

Jaehyun turns his head to him.

“What is going on with you? Why did you _really_ come to Cannes? You could’ve said no to Yuta if you really didn’t want to come. Yuta wouldn’t force you. You look so unlike yourself. I don’t recognize you. Your face, your mannerisms, your new bad habits. It’s like you’re a completely different person now. What have these five years done to you?”

“I guess,” Jaehyun says, stomach churning at the interrogation, sounding careful, “it was as a last resort.”

He worded it vaguely, yet still he feels Doyoung pull him in. Jaehyun panics inside when he feels Doyoung’s arms wrapping around him. It’s an uncomfortable embrace, but makes Jaehyun’s heart leap, and it’s the most he's felt in months. The closest he’s been to someone. It feels so intimate, so familiar, however the circumstances of the hug make Jaehyun sad. 

“Hey, hey now,” Jaehyun tries to push Doyoung off of him, “What’s up with you?”

“Don’t speak,” Doyoung says. He has his head hidden in the crook of Jaehyun’s neck. Jaehyun slowly wraps his arms around him. He can’t breathe, both figuratively and literally. It’s jarring to him; Doyoung should hate him, he shouldn’t be so concerned for him, and yet there he is, with Doyoung so close to him. It feels surreal.

Doyoung whispers, “Relax. You’re so tense.”

Jaehyun sighs and drops his head onto Doyoung’s shoulder. He feels so heavy, so incredibly tired. He doesn’t feel bothered by their proximity anymore, doesn’t question it. Doyoung runs his hands over Jaehyun’s back, comforting. Jaehyun doesn’t know for how long Doyoung keeps doing that, he stops counting the seconds. Time seems to slow down.

“I thought you were bitter at me,” Jaehyun mumbles.

“I am, a bit,” Doyoung replies, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t care about you.”

“Why?”

Doyoung sighs. “Look at your current state right now and ask me that again. You’re so incredibly stupid. How could you do this to yourself?”

Jaehyun smiles against Doyoung’s shoulder. He pulls away. “Okay, enough of that. Melancholy is for the night, now it’s morning.”

“Melancholy knows no time.”

“That’s true,” Jaehyun laughs. “You should go and catch up on some rest.”

“If you say so.”

Jaehyun steps out of the car. “Thank you,” he says, genuinely. “I didn’t know I needed that.”

Doyoung nods. He says, after a silent second, “I haven’t replied to you back then at the party. I’ve missed you too.”

Jaehyun feels warm. “Sleep well, Doyoung.”

He watches Doyoung drive away. For the first time over the night, he feels strangely calm. Jaehyun walks through the lobby and takes the elevator to his suite. He checks the time. 7:10. He smokes a cigarette quickly, then takes a shower and goes to bed. 

—

The bar is dim as Jaehyun enters it. The smell of wood is strong is spaces like these, so prominent. Jaehyun sits by the bar stand and orders a whiskey with ice. The bartender quickly slides him over a glass; Jaehyun watches condensation form on it before he cradles it. It’s a mellow evening – music plays the background, a sweet jazz melody that Jaehyun likes. Jaehyun loves lounge jazz, its calmness and the peacefulness it brings. The instruments are not too loud but not too quiet either, they’re the perfect volume to be a pleasant background noise for conversations amidst the bar and for the singer to not be overshadowed.

Jaehyun’s halfway through his whiskey when he sees Doyoung go up on stage. He’s graceful with his movements, looking out of place to be performing in an underground bar but also somehow fitting right in. Doyoung’s wearing a white blouse and his hair is parted, revealing a bit of forehead. A glimmering necklace rests on his neck, one that Jaehyun gifted him a while ago. 

Doyoung certainly is popular with the audience. Half of them come solely for his songs, another half can’t look away from him. Jaehyun is a bit of both. 

When Doyoung sings, he looks at the audience, engages in one way conversation. It’s when his eyes lock with Jaehyun’s that a small smile spreads on his face, it’s when he’s on a ten minute break that he slides onto the barstool next to Jaehyun so they can exchange formalities. Jaehyun is thankful the lights are dim, for only in something close to darkness can he openly squeeze Doyoung’s hand in his in public before Doyoung goes back for another song.

At some point he makes small talk with people around him. It’s excitingly interesting; people have much to tell to strangers over a glass of alcohol. 

“...So, then I almost got a bullet to my leg,” a man sitting next to Jaehyun says, “I somehow avoided it, but pretended that it struck me so they would take me away from the battlefield. I begged the nurse to not tell anyone that I’m not harmed because I really didn’t want to die, and she agreed but only if I would marry her.” 

“Is that so?” Jaehyun muses, amused. 

“We ended up running away. Have been married for nearly twenty years now.”

“That’s incredible,” Jaehyun says. If Jaehyun wrote about war, he would certainly make a story out of that brief dialogue, but war is something he could never bring himself to write about, something so gruesome and heartbreaking is not his cup of tea. He thinks about giving Yuta a call.

The man smiles at him. “Do you have a girlfriend, son?”

“I don’t,” Jaehyun replies. 

“Ah, what a shame,” the man then says, “You’re a handsome young fellow.”

Jaehyun says, “Thank you, sir.” He checks his wristwatch, if shows eleven in the evening. Doyoung should be finishing up soon. The man offers to treat him to another drink but Jaehyun politely declines, saying he has to go. 

He stands outside of the bar with hands in his pockets. He sees Doyoung emerge, wearing a long coat. Doyoung stands in front of him, watching Jaehyun’s expression light up, then Jaehyun takes him by the waist so they’re standing chest to chest. Doyoung’s smiling. Jaehyun pulls him into a small kiss.

“You look so striking today,” Jaehyun says quietly. There’s no one outside of the alley they’re in, but although Jaehyun can act bold, he still whispers.

“You taste of whiskey,” Doyoung smiles against him, kissing back lightly. He looks even more handsome up close, with his dark brown eyes and a tint of eyeshadow on his eyelids, wind blowing softly at his hair.

Jaehyun places his hands on Doyoung’s hips, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all evening.”

“I’m all yours now,” Doyoung smiles. 

“Should we go to your place? Are you hungry?”

Doyoung says, “We can go to mine, you can cook me some late dinner.”

“That sounds good,” Jaehyun says. He interlocks their pinkies as they walk to the metro station. They sit next to each other on the noisy train without talking. They ride past a station with a clear view on the night city and river. It’s pretty, Jaehyun thinks. The city always somehow becomes different at night. 

It’s a short walk to Doyoung’s apartment, around ten minutes or so. 

“I should’ve gotten you flowers,” Jaehyun says as an afterthought, hands in his pockets. 

Doyoung laughs, “Please, you get me them every time.” 

They walk up the stairs to the sixth floor of the apartment building, arms now interlocked again. Doyoung fumbles with his door keys before he lets Jaehyun step inside. Doyoung’s apartment is modest but big enough for two. It has a balcony with a view on the city as well as a spacious living room. Jaehyun toes off his shoes and puts on slippers Doyoung has given him, trails to the kitchen to whisk up a meal, meanwhile Doyoung puts the kettle on the stove to boil. 

“Green or black?” Doyoung asks.

“Black.”

“With sugar?”

“Two spoonfuls. And lemon.”

Doyoung takes out packets of earl grey tea from his cupboards. It’s so pleasant to be standing close to him like this, shoulders almost touching, Jaehyun thinks, without having to worry about what people might say. He makes a chicken stir fry and Doyoung prepares the tea. After putting the mugs onto the table, he tunes a radio as background noise. Then, he walks up to Jaehyun from behind and hugs him briefly, making Jaehyun grin. 

“Looks good,” Doyoung says, resting his chin on Jaehyun’s shoulder.

“Hungry?”

“Quite. I never realize that staying out late gives me such an appetite.”

Doyoung’s voice is soft. Jaehyun can feel the rise and fall of his chest against his back, the brush of his hands against his stomach, the gentle press of lips against his neck. It all leaves his heart fluttering. Doyoung pulls back to take out the plates and cutlery, then sits by the table. Jaehyun sits across of him. They eat while chattering from time to time, listening to the radio.

“Your tea is always the best,” Jaehyun says after taking a sip. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“The secret ingredient is love,” Doyoung smiles. “My grandpa always used to say that when he made tea for me.”

“I guess the love runs in the family,” Jaehyun says.

“Maybe so.”

“You do have so much love to give,” Jaehyun comments, taking Doyoung’s hand in his from across the table.

Doyoung blushes a little. “It’s mostly reserved for you, you know.”

Jaehyun smiles, “Mostly?”

“Well,” Doyoung says, “the rest is for singing.”

“Singing…” Jaehyun says. “Have you thought about performing professionally?”

Doyoung shakes his head. “You know it’s just a hobby. If anything, I want to open a flower shop.”

“A flower shop?” Jaehyun asks. “Why?”

“Flowers are gentle like hearts, my grandma used to tell me. Easy to break, hard to mend, beautiful when in bloom.”

“That’s so poetic,” Jaehyun says.

Doyoung laughs. “Write about it.”

“Mm,” Jaehyun puts a hand on his chin, gaze warm, “You know what I could write about? How lovely your eyes are, how beautiful your voice is…”

“Oh, stop it,” Doyoung laughs again, standing up to put away the dishes, “you’re such a sap.”

Jaehyun finishes the tea. “I’m serious,” he says. He dries the plates Doyoung gives him, saying, “I could write poems about you all day and all night. Other writers do not know what muses are for they don’t have you.” 

Doyoung’s breath hitches slightly. He looks at Jaehyun with eyes that glow almost golden because of the ceiling lights. Jaehyun can’t help but reach out to brush Doyoung’s fringe away from his eyes. He presses a kiss to his forehead, cups his cheek. Doyoung wraps his hands around Jaehyun’s waist, pulls him close. The radio plays a mellow tune. 

Jaehyun leans in to kiss him properly on the lips. It’s just a peck, but then Doyoung angles his head more the the side so Jaehyun can kiss him deeper. When he feels Doyoung play with the hairs on his nape, he breaks out into a smile.

“You have such a pretty smile,” Doyoung says against his lips. “I love it when you smile, when your eyes crinkle and your cheeks show dimples. I love to see you happy.”

“I’m the happiest with you, right now,” Jaehyun murmurs, kissing Doyoung again. 

—

Jaehyun opens his eyes. He rolls over on his bed, processing that everything was a dream of his old memories. He hasn’t dreamt of Doyoung in a long time.

He gets up from bed with a heaviness in his chest, although a part of him feels oddly light. Whenever he thinks of Doyoung, he can’t help but smile a little. He only has fond memories of him, after all these years.

While gets ready, he notices his eye bags don’t look as bad today. For how long had he been sleeping? Jaehyun checks his wristwatch. It shows that it’s morning.

“Oh, Christ,” Jaehyun mutters to himself. His suite telephone starts ringing, and Jaehyun hastily picks it up.

“Hello?”

“Jaehyun!” Yuta’s voice booms through the wires, “I see you’re alive and well.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun laughs, “I kind of passed out yesterday.”

“Are you up for brunch?”

“Sure,” Jaehyun replies, “I do feel kind of hungry.”

Yuta picks out a restaurant not far from Jaehyun’s hotel. Jaehyun quickly gets ready. He’s the first to reach the place. He sits on the outside terrace, and after fifteen minutes, when he’s halfway through his glass of water, Yuta shows up.

Yuta gives Jaehyun a wave as he sits across of him. They order bruschettas and juice.

“No drinking today?” Jaehyun teases.

“God, no,” Yuta groans, “I drank too much at Ten’s party. I’m done drinking for the summer.”

“Oh my,” Jaehyun says. “How did you get back to your hotel room?”

“I didn’t,” Yuta says, “I woke up in Taeyong’s. Somehow. He said I was so plastered he physically couldn’t leave me alone.”

“He’s a good guy,” Jaehyun answers. 

“He really is. He’s satisfied with the movie too. It will premiere soon. Will you come to the premiere?”

“Depends,” Jaehyun says, “by how much you’ll pester me about it.”

Yuta chuckles, “You know I won’t force you. But I really do appreciate you coming here to the festival for me.”

Jaehyun smiles. “It’s nothing. It’s the least I could do for you.”

Yuta mirrors his grin. Then, he says, “Oh. I heard you talked to Doyoung at the party.”

“Ah. Yes.”

“How is he? How was it?”

“He’s…” Jaehyun finds the right words to say, “He’s doing good. It looks like he’s been well.”

“That’s good to hear,” Yuta says, “What did you two talk about?”

“Mostly about what we missed out on,” Jaehyun says, “he drove me back.”

“Is that so?” Yuta asks. Then, more seriously, “How are you feeling?”

“Conflicted,” Jaehyun says. “It was… really nice seeing Doyoung again, but also I feel so torn by everything that had happened between us.” Yuta sends him a comforting look and Jaehyun continues, “I don’t know how to describe this. It’s funny, for someone who writes I really can’t find the right words to verbalize my emotions.”

“Sooner or later all writers run out of things to say,” Yuta says. “I imagine you must be a bit shocked.”

Jaehyun nods, “I didn’t think he’d be here at this time and place. I mean, we haven’t seen each other for about six years, despite our social circle being quite small. It was so sudden, talking to him felt so sudden. It was so unusual to see his warm gaze be so indifferent.”

“He really did love you a lot,” Yuta says. “Time doesn’t really heal.”

“No,” Jaehyun says, “It doesn’t.”

“Fickle things, hearts are.”

“I feel so bad,” Jaehyun laughs. “If I were in Doyoung’s place I would’ve landed myself a punch.”

“Doyoung is a kind man,” Yuta says. “I crossed paths with him once, three years ago, maybe. In Switzerland. He asked me about you. Told me he feels very worried. He looked really sad when I said I didn’t know what you were up to.”

Jaehyun bites on the inside of his cheek. “Did he say anything else?”

“No,” Yuta shakes his head, “but I could feel like he wanted to. He looked like he missed you.”

“I missed him, too,” Jaehyun sighs. “In retrospect, I really was the happiest with him.”

Yuta smiles at him softly. “I hope you can make up.”

“It’s wishful thinking,” Jaehyun says, “but it would be nice.

Jaehyun ponders on the chances of that happening. He thinks back to Doyoung’s sharp gaze and tongue, his obvious hurt and coldness, but then he remembers the warmth of his touch, the concern in his voice. It made Jaehyun feel vulnerable, wanting for more. More of what? Jaehyun isn’t sure himself. 

That afternoon he drives to Nice. The weather is a bit cloudy; Jaehyun has an inkling it might rain. White clouds hang heavy in the sky. They look pretty, Jaehyun thinks. He spends the day walking around the old town, then towards the evening he heads towards the coast. He walks by the promenade, watching the sun go down. 

It’s then, when he notices someone familiar by the railings. It’s a small world after all, Jaehyun thinks, as he walks up to Doyoung. 

“Good evening,” Jaehyun says.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Doyoung replies amicably. “Are you here for a drive?”

Jaehyun nods. “It’s nice by the coast. And you?”

“My hotel is here,” Doyoung says. 

Doyoung looks good today. He’s wearing casual attire and his hair is let down. Glasses are perched on his nose. His posture is relaxed.

“Do you always stroll around alone?” Jaehyun asks.

“Who says I’m alone here?” Doyoung quirks a brow. At Jaehyun’s surprised expression, he smiles, “I’m teasing. I am alone. I like to take walks, it’s healthy.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” The question has been at the top of Jaehyun’s tongue for a while.

Doyoung takes time to reply, and Jaehyun thinks it would make sense for Doyoung to have moved on after all these years, expecting affirmation, but Doyoung only says, “No. I’m not. Are you?”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I haven’t seen anyone since we broke up.”

Doyoung doesn’t say anything. He nods in acknowledgement, expression passive. 

“Well. It was nice seeing you. I must go,” he makes a move to walk away, but Jaehyun calls out to him.

“Wait. Don’t you want to talk?”

“Talk about what?” Doyoung turns around.

“About us.”

“It’s six years too late to have a talk.”

“Doyoung, please,” Jaehyun pleads. “We’ve been ignoring this elephant in the room for too long. Isn’t it suffocating?”

“Fine,” Doyoung grumbles. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

“Lead the way,” Jaehyun says.

Doyoung takes them off the promenade and right to the sand. Jaehyun thinks it’s a bit ironic how the sea plays such a major role in their relationship. So many of their moments together can be traced back to salty waves. There are remnants of the sunset reflected in the water through the clouds and it’s a bit more chilly now. Jaehyun’s in a blazer, but his hands start feeling a bit cold.

Doyoung stands not too close but not too far from him. He watches the water, humming a tune, and Jaehyun asks, “Do you still sing?”

“No,” Doyoung says. “I quit after not long after you moved out.”

“Oh.”

Silence falls again. It’s not too crowded by the beach, chattering can be heard in the distance.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Doyoung asks. He looks uncomfortable. 

“You and I. Our break-up. Everything.”

“Where should we even start?”

“I can start by saying I’m sorry.”

Doyoung takes a sigh and deflates. “Six years, Jaehyun. Six years. You never wrote to me since you left, you never called. You even never made yourself present to the public. Can you imagine what you’ve put me through? And now you show up at the stupid Festival, and then you went to the stupid after party, and now you somehow saw me here in Nice. What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say to you?”

“Doyoung...”

“Why did you break up with me, Jaehyun?” Doyoung asks. He sounds so incredibly tired. Jaehyun realizes that he’s not the only one with dark eye bags. “Why did you leave so suddenly?”

Jaehyun bites on his bottom lip. “You said so yourself, our careers were on the line, and we were fighting all the time, too. I was stressed about my novel, you were stressed about your performances, things just bottled up and exploded. We were already dating in secret before that, and I was fine with it, but when you started getting attention you became hesitant, and I respected your decision.” 

Doyoung sighs, “I only went for singing because you encouraged me to, I didn’t think I would get attention. It made me so paranoid.”

“I had your best interest in mind,” Jaehyun reasons, “I thought you deserved more than a makeshift stage in an underground bar.”

“I was scared, Jaehyun. I had reporters in my face every second. They were asking me if I have a girlfriend or a wife. What if we got find out? It would’ve been a scandal. What if something bad had happened to us?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I wanted to,” Doyoung says. “But I couldn't. You somehow managed to keep our relationship a secret for all that time, and I thought that the least I could do is stay strong for us both, but in the end it was too much to handle.”

Jaehyun looks down at the sand, then back up at Doyoung. “I had a feeling there was something bothering you, but you never told me what it was, no matter how much I tried to coax it out of you,” he says. “You should’ve told me about how you felt, we could’ve worked something out together.”

“Could’ve, would’ve. It’s been years now, Jaehyun, there is no could’ve.”

“Why not?” Jaehyun asks. “If I knew about your worries earlier, we would’ve come up with an arrangement. We could have lived separately, met up less frequently. There’s always a way out of situations like these. Rumours die fast. I could have fake dated a girl.”

Doyoung says, “Fake dated someone? Jaehyun, are you hearing yourself? Don’t you hear how exhausting would’ve been? Beating around the bush, being cautious, being careful. It’s not the right way to live, it’s– it’s not how we should’ve lived.”

“And what else could be done, Doyoung?” Jaehyun presses. “I was willing to work for it, right way or not. I was willing to work for us.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Doyoung asks, words sharp and like a dagger to Jaehyun’s neck. 

“You said it would be better for us to break up.”

“I told you I didn’t want you to go literally the morning after, that I didn’t want us to part, and what you did was leave and end our relationship,” Doyoung states. “You ended it and you left me all alone.”

There’s a moment of silence. It’s suffocating, and Jaehyun wishes he had a cigarette on him right now. Doyoung looks, no, he glares right into Jaehyun’s soul, and Jaehyun feels so uncomfortable in his own skin. The situation is like the two sides of the same coin. 

“Say something,” Doyoung whispers. The wind blows at his hair softly. It would be a pretty painting, if not for the tension in his shoulders and the red around his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun decided to say. “I shouldn’t have.”

Doyoung’s glare seems to soften. It looks less sharp, less angry. “I know you said you leaving was for the best for us, but it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?” Doyoung asks. His eyes look glassy now. It’s painful sight. 

Jaehyun can't answer that, at least not here and not now. Doyoung catches up on that and crosses his arms. “But well, I guess there’s reason to discuss what happened years ago.”

“You say that, yet you look sad.”

Doyoung looks at him. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I be sad? It’s sad, Jaehyun, the way things broke off. It’s sad and it’s hard to pretend you’re doing good when you’re not.”

“I know,” Jaehyun says, “believe me.”

“I want to say I’ve moved on, but deep down I just can’t let go. I can’t let you go. I was hurt and upset for years, and honestly I still am, and I thought that if we were to cross paths I could give you a piece of my mind but now that you’re actually here in front of me and all I want to do is just cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun says again. He wants to reach out and comfort Doyoung, but doesn’t. “I didn’t think I hurt you so much.”

“I’m sorry, too, honestly. I was so cold to you, you didn’t deserve to be treated that way,” Doyoung says, “Christ, I felt remorseful for years. And you needed my support the most but I wasn’t there for you, too busy thinking about myself. I’m really sorry about your book.”

“The Endless Blue, huh?” Jaehyun says. He looks at the sea. At the endless blue. “It’s not worth the trouble anymore. I’m over it now, I think.”

“If my opinion is worth anything, I think it’s your best work.”

Jaehyun smiles. “You said it wouldn’t sell.”

“Yes, because it’s not something most people can understand. But I truly think you outdid yourself with it.”

Perhaps Ten made a point. “Most people wouldn’t agree so,” Jaehyun says, “but your opinion is the only one that matters most to me.” 

“I couldn’t believe you quit writing,” Doyoung says. “When I first heard that, I was devastated. And then at the party you confirmed everything, too.”

“Disappointing, isn’t it?” Jaehyun says, looking into the distance.

“Not disappointing, just... sad.”

“Same thing,” Jaehyun says. “Although I’ve wanted to quit the industry for a long time now.”

“Really?”

“I wanted to spend my life with you,” Jaehyun says quietly, sadly. Doyoung’s eyes widen. “I know we can’t – couldn't – legally… but that didn’t matter to me, you know? I didn’t care what would happen to my career if I ever got exposed because I had you by my side, and well, now I don’t have both.”

“Jaehyun…”

“I bought a ring, too,” Jaehyun smiles to himself, “A silver one. I took one of your rings you kept on your bedside table so I could get the correct size, and then I went to the nearest jewelry shop. The ring was meant for your middle finger, so that people wouldn’t pay any mind to it or assume anything. I thought I could retire after publishing my last book and we could move somewhere far away, away from the public eye, and settle down somewhere in the countryside. I had enough money to sustain us both until the end of our lifetimes, you could open a flower shop there, it was the perfect plan, but oh well.”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung clutches at him. In the background, waves crash. “Stop, please.”

“Sorry,” Jaehyun says, stepping back, “That was years ago. It’s getting late. I should return to Cannes.”

“You idiot.” Doyoung takes Jaehyun’s hand to stop him from pulling away. There are a million emotions running through Doyoung’s face: desperation, regret, hurt, sadness, denial. “You honest to God idiot, you should’ve told me,” Doyoung whispers, almost distraught, “I would’ve said yes.”

Jaehyun feels himself smile sadly. “You’re right, it’s too late now. There’s no use talking about this.”

“Look at you, using my words against me,” Doyoung laughs bitterly, “I can’t believe you’re only telling me this now.”

“When else was I supposed to tell you? I didn’t know where to contact you. It’s like we’re strangers now.”

“We’re not strangers,” Doyoung says, “we can’t possibly be strangers when there’s so much history between us.”

“I suppose that label is misfitting. What are we then, Doyoung? Where do we stand?”

“Somewhere in the middle,” Doyoung says.

“So strangers, but not quite.”

“No, it’s more complicated than that, you know this.” There’s almost desperation in Doyoung’s voice. When he looks at Doyoung’s eyes, he sees the sea reflected in them. They’re endlessly blue. 

“Everything is too complicated, isn’t it?,” Jaehyun says. “Either way, for how we turned out, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry anymore,” Doyoung interjects, “don’t speak like that, like we won’t see each other again.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Jaehyun asks.

“No.”

“No?” Jaehyun presses. “I thought we finally got closure.”

“No,” Doyoung says, “I don’t want any closure. This isn’t closure. You tell me you wanted to marry me and now I’m supposed to brush it off? This is heartbreak.”

“What do you want, Doyoung?” Jaehyun asks. He feels tired, but not in a bad way. “Do you want to try again?”

“I don’t know,” Doyoung says. “We’re both still hurt and tired and we’re getting old.”

Jaehyun laughs, “Whatever you say, I will respect you.”

“This is unfair,” Doyoung expresses. “You’re being so unfair, always leaving up the choices to me. What do _you_ want, Jaehyun?”

“I want a peaceful life,” Jaehyun says. He thinks of the quiet countryside, of no paparazzi, of the clean air and quiet. “I want a world where I wouldn’t be judged for loving whomever I want. I want you in it.”

Doyoung softens, “Oh, Jaehyun.”

“You don’t have to give me a definite answer right now,” Jaehyun says, “we have all the time in our hands right now. However, I really must go back. I’m rather tired.”

Doyoung nods. They walk back to the promenade, then to Jaehyun’s parked car by some hotel. There’s no one outside who could catch onto their conversation, but they still speak quietly.

“I’ll see you later, hopefully,” Jaehyun says, giving Doyoung a pat on the back. 

Doyoung says, “I’m leaving for Paris tomorrow.”

“Is that so?”

“I live there now.”

“Paris is a beautiful city.”

“Visit me,” Doyoung suggests. “If you can.”

“I’d love to,” Jaehyun says. He opens the car door, but he doesn’t feel like getting in. Doyoung looks at him with those wide eyes of his. He’s somehow always so beautiful, Jaehyun thinks.

“Take care of yourself, please,” Doyoung says. “Drink water, for the love of God stop smoking, get lots of sleep.”

”Okay,” Jaehyun smiles, “I’ll try.”

“You have such a gorgeous smile,” Doyoung comments.

Jaehyun laughs, “That was out of the blue.”

“I‘ve missed it,” Doyoung reaches out to cup Jaehyun’s cheeks firstly hesitant, then more boldly. Jaehyun can’t help but break out into a wider grin at the tender gesture. “When your dimples show I can tell you’re genuinely happy.”

“Thank you, Doyoung, really,” Jaehyun says. He puts a hand over Doyoung’s. “I hope you have a safe flight tomorrow.”

“Sleep soundly,” Doyoung replies. Jaehyun squeezes his hand and then drives away, already missing the feeling of Doyoung’s smooth fingers between his own. For the first time in a long while, he sleeps to the sound of the lulling waves without dreading of morning coming. 

—

Jaehyun gets a phone call in the afternoon. The telephone rings loudly next to his bed. Jaehyun picks it up.

“Hello.”

“Hello, Jaehyun,” Ten says from the other end of the line, “Are you free today?”

“I am, yes.”

“Great. Come meet me today at four. It’s urgent!”

Jaehyun says, “Where are we going?”

“La Palme d’Or. Wear something nice,” Ten says and then hangs up. 

Jaehyun puts the telephone down and stretches. He has a suit he hasn’t worn yet. He washes his hair and moisturises his face, then irons his suit as he puts on the radio. He’s in a good mood. It’s been a while since he was in a good mood.

Jaehyun hails a cab to the restaurant. When he arrives Ten is already there, with white wine and a charming smile.

“Hi, thank you for coming,” he says.

“Thank you for having me. What’s the occasion?”

“I finished your book yesterday,” Ten says. “Your last one.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes,” Ten hands Jaehyun the menu, “It was brilliant, Jaehyun. I had to see you as soon as possible to tell you how much I liked it, and trust me, I don’t like much of modern literature nowadays.” 

Jaehyun smiles. “Thank you. I had a feeling you might like it.”

“I think we’re somewhat alike, you and I.” Ten rests his chin on his hands. “Our minds work the same creative ways.”

“Maybe so,” Jaehyun sips on the wine.

“That’s why I was wondering if I could make a movie based on your book.” 

“What?”

“I’m serious. As I was reading it I was imagining it unfold into a movie; this _needs_ to come to life, I thought.”

Jaehyun puts his glass down. “Are you sure?”

“You know I don’t joke about such things. I know you’ve quit but it would be great if we could work on this together. But only if you want.”

“Let me think about it,” Jaehyun says. 

“Take your time,” Ten smiles, “We’re in no rush here, although I am anticipating a positive answer. Do think about it, with both of our forces combined, we could create something incredible.”

Jaehyun nods. “Give me a month.”

“That long?”

“I need to weigh the options,” Jaehyun explains, “It wasn’t really in my goals to return to the public.”

“Goals change,” Ten says.

“That’s true, but I really am through with writing.”

Ten frowns a little. “Okay, well, let’s put it like this: you’re not writing anything technically. It’s already written. We’ll just make a script, do a casting, although I already know I want Sicheng to be the main lead, then the rest will be on me. I’ll do The Endless Blue justice it deserved.”

Jaehyun smiles. “That doesn't sound too bad, actually. It’s not like I’m a busy man anymore, I might as well do something with my free time.”

Ten shakes his hand, “It’s pleasure doing business with you.”

Jaehyun laughs, “I didn’t say yes.”

“Yet,” Ten grins. “You can pick out the location of the set. You can do whatever you want with the movie, the creative freedom is all yours.”

Jaehyun reclines in his seat. “You sure know how to convince a man.”

“None of your books have been adapted into movies, right?”

“No,” Jaehyun says. 

“Then this is a good opportunity.” 

Jaehyun thinks. “Alright, I’ll give you a call in two weeks if I’ve made up my mind by then,” he says. 

“All right.” Ten pays for their meal and drives Jaehyun back in his black cabriolet. It’s easy to be around Ten, Jaehyun thinks, perhaps it’s because they are somewhat alike. Ten doesn’t care about what the public thinks of him, Jaehyun doesn’t either. Ten is bold and controversial with his movies, Jaehyun isn’t subtle with his writing either. Perhaps they would make a good team, but Jaehyun doesn’t know if he’s willing to spend so much time and effort into something that might not work out well in the end. 

Jaehyun thanks Ten for the ride and before he steps out of the car, he asks, “Do you by chance know Doyoung’s address in Paris?”

“Why,” Ten’s smile widens, “are you going to fly to him?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun says. 

Ten reaches out for a notepad and a pen he stores in his arm rest and scribbles Doyoung’s address.

“Your handwriting is almost unintelligible,” Jaehyun laughs.

“Sorry for that,” Ten says, “I’m too used to typewriters.”

“Thank you again,” Jaehyun says. “The dinner was delicious.”

“Don’t forget to give me a call,” Ten waves at him. “I’ll be patiently waiting.”

Jaehyun spends the evening looking at the note Ten has written him, debating on booking a flight to Paris. Although Doyoung has told him to visit him, Jaehyun believes it’s too soon. He decides to spend a few days to think and process everything that’s happening. 

It’s been a wild few weeks. He reconnected with old colleagues, showed himself to the public after years, he and Doyoung talked, finally, then Ten suggested they work together. It’s a lot to take in at once, however Jaehyun doesn’t feel overwhelmed. On the contrary, he feels excited that his life is starting to move again after five years of it being on pause. Jaehyun sits on the balcony. He had always regarded the sea as a mirror of his soul, however now, while watching the waves outside crash and clash he can only feel calm inside. 

The following days are sunny. Jaehyun spends them leisurely. He visits small stores to buy souvenirs for his family, antique shops, libraries, cafes. On one hot day he goes to a bookshop in search of something nice to read. He sees his own books stand on the shelves. Jaehyun sometimes forgets he was a popular writer once. He grabs a hold of a copy of his last book. It’s a lengthy novel, with a blue leather cover and silver binding, it’s unfamiliarly heavy in his hand. Jaehyun decides to buy it. 

The store clerk looks surprised at his presence, she bows profusely and stammers whether he wants a receipt. Jaehyun smiles at her, and after she hands him his purchase, she asks for an autograph.

Jaehyun laughs and agrees, and the girl excitedly leaves for the staff room to grab a her own copy of his book. Jaehyun takes a pen from her and writes a short message in French. 

“Merci beaucoup, monsieur!” she thanks him. 

“De rein,” Jaehyun replies, still smiling. He’s kind of missed interacting with people who enjoyed his works and their pure awe whenever they talked to him. He exits the shop and sits outside of a cafe, orders a coffee and flips over his book. It’s been over five years since finished writing it, so it feels like he’s reading it for the first time, like another person had written it and not him. In a sense, him from five years ago is different from him today. 

He sits for around an hour or so, skimming through the pages, drinking his tea slowly. The book brings him a lot of nostalgia, a lot of memories from when he was writing it.

He thought of the idea for it when he was travelling with Doyoung. They were passing by the sea in a rented car, and the idea had struck him then. Jaehyun pulled over, and then pulled Doyoung into a short kiss.

“What’s the matter?” Doyoung asked, breathless.

“Inspiration struck me,” Jaehyun whispered. He cupped Doyoung’s cheek. “I haven’t felt as inspired in a long time.”

Doyoung had kissed his nose. “That’s wonderful.”

They were still travelling, so Jaehyun could only write in their hotel rooms long after the sun had set, when Doyoung ushered him to go to sleep. Even after the first two months of writing, Jaehyun didn’t have much to show anyone – just a disconnected jumble of scenes, sketches of possible sequences, notes for characters. 

By the third month, when they’ve returned from their travels, Jaehyun realized that what he’d written so far wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough because it didn’t leave room for him, Jeong Jaehyun, in it. Not the actual Jeong Jaehyun, not the recital of the history that lay behind the man who sat in the darkness of hotel rooms writing instead of sleeping, but his beliefs, hopes, dreams, worries, his judgment on the time through which he had lived. Without all that, he came to realize, whatever he fully accomplished, was fragmentary and useless. 

The work was personal to him. It was the first time he’s written something personal and close to heart. He let Doyoung read what he had only after half a year, when Doyoung started singing full time. During those months Doyoung became busier and busier. They lived together, but at times it felt like they did not. More often than not did Doyoung leave early in the morning, making Jaehyun wake up to an empty cold bed. 

Jaehyun was fine with it, for he was happy for Doyoung’s hobby to turn into something more. However sometimes the tension was evident. They didn’t kiss much, they didn’t talk to each other much. They were both busy. But sometimes, when Jaehyun didn’t write and Doyoung didn’t sing, it’s like things were the same. 

“This is…” Doyoung says after he had finished reading the first draft. “Wow.”

“Just wow?”

“It’s very different from what you write.”

“What do you think?” Jaehyun was ansty. He was stressing over it, anticipating Doyoung’s reaction. 

“I love it so far, but I don’t know how people will react to it.”

“Fair enough,” Jaehyun said. “They might not like it.”

“Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun said. “If it’s too bad in your opinion I can change it up.”

Doyoung kissed his forehead. “Do what you think is best for you, it’s your book after all.”

Jaehyun sighed. “I’ll think about it. Will you stay the morning?”

Doyoung frowned. “I’m sorry,” he cupped Jaehyun’s cheek, “I have to go to the studio at eight. I’ll be back by the afternoon, though.”

“It’s alright. I just... miss you.”

“We live together,” Doyoung smiled softly, “I know we’re both busy right now, but at the end of the day I can only come home to you.”

Jaehyun had kissed him tenderly. It was one of the last sweet moments they shared before things escalated and went downhill. 

Jaehyun closes the book. He asks for the cheque, leaves a tip then walks back to the hotel.

As soon as he returns, the telephone rings. When Jaehyun picks it up, he hears Doyoung’s voice.

“Doyoung?”

“I was wondering if you were ever planning on visiting me,” Doyoung says instead of a hello.

Jaehyun chuckles at that. “I got your address from Ten. I can book a flight soon. When are you free?”

“Come by Friday and stay for the weekend.”

“By the weekend I must be back here,” Jaehyun says. 

“Are you working on something?”

“Not yet, but I could be. I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Doyoung hums. He’s miles away, but he feels close. His voice sounds sweet even through the poor connection of their telephones; Jaehyun realizes just how much he’s missed Doyoung as well. It’s been a bit over a week, but it’s also been six years since they’ve talked so casually. He missed this, his voice, their casualty, he missed what was between them. It hits him like a crashing wave.

“I will be waiting for you then,” Doyoung whispers through the phone. “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”

He hangs up. Jaehyun stares at the ripped paper from the notepad gave him, and goes to buy a plane ticket the day after. 

Jaehyun boards a plane on Friday and an hour and a half later he finds himself on the familiar grounds of Paris. It’s colder than in Cannes, having had just rained. Jaehyun didn't bring an umbrella, but something about the slight simmering makes him smile to himself.

He walks through a light drizzle to a nearby cafe in the center of the city for breakfast. He sits by a window and watches the grey clouds hang low while he nurses a cup of coffee. Bossa nova plays softly from a pathethone in the background. Jaehyun thinks, despite the greyness, it’s a lovely morning. 

By afternoon, the clouds disperse. The ground still smells like rain, the air fresh. He doesn't know whether Doyoung is at work or at home, so he decides to walk around the city until evening falls. All roads in Paris are like a trip down memory lane. He and Doyoung used to visit Paris a lot when they were together. France was Jaehyun’s second home, he used to say, and Doyoung ultimately was his first.

Jaehyun walks to Doyoung’s apartment with a map of the city in his hands. He finds himself a bit surprised to end up in front a flower shop instead of an apartment complex. Jaehyun almost thinks Ten has given him the wrong address, however he then sees a flicker of raven hair behind the windows.

As he walks in, a bell jingles. Jaehyun immediately gets hits by a strong smell of flowers. Jaehyun looks round for a while before he picks out a bouquet of lilies.

Doyoung pops out of the staff room, surprise evident in his eyes at the sight of Jaehyun.

“Oh my, Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun grins at him, gives him a hug. Doyoung faintly smells like flowers.

“I see you’ve opened the flower shop you always wanted.”

“That’s right,” Doyoung boasts. “Do you like it?”

Doyoung’s wearing an apron with a name tag. The sleeves of his black shirt are rolled back to his elbows, revealing his slender arms. 

“I do,” Jaehyun smiles. The shop is cozy, with large windows and lots of colours. The smell of flowers isn’t overwhelming but instead is very pleasant. Doyoung has always dreamt of opening a flower shop like this, Jaehyun recalls, and it’s nice to see his dream fulfilled. 

“I have my own garden here, but we import flowers as well,” Doyoung says. “All flowers here are fresh. Dare I say it’s popular in between parisian youth.”

Jaehyun takes in the way Doyoung’s. eyes seem to shine. It’s a good look on him. “I’ll have a bouquet of roses,” he then says.

“Roses,” Doyoung repeats, voice teasing, “for whom might they be?”

“For a friend of mine.”

Doyoung picks out seven roses and carefully wraps them in cellophane. “Your friend must be quite special,” he says, handing Jaehyun the bouquet

“He is,” Jaehyun says, handing it back. “The flowers are for you, after all.”

Doyoung laughs but takes the flowers from him. “Jaehyun, we’re not twenty anymore.”

“Indulge me just this one,” Jaehyun says. 

“Alright. Then let me treat you to a meal. When’s your flight back?”

“At midnight.”

Doyoung tsks. “We only have a couple of hours. Do you mind if we stop by my apartment for a second? It’s not far, I just need to change.”

Jaehyun says, “I don’t. Let’s go.”

Doyoung’s place is a couple of metro stops away and then another ten minute walk. Doyoung tells Jaehyun about when he had moved here, how he has started his business.

“After our breakup and after I quit singing I was in a state of misery,” Doyoung says as they walk into a building. “I didn’t know what to do anymore, but then I once walked by a flower shop, and my dream kind of rekindled. It’s a nice steady business. Oh– we’re here.” Doyoung stops in front of a door to his apartment. “Wait for me, I’ll put on my coat and we can go out.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Dinner. Then we could just walk around. Spend an evening here in Paris.”

“An evening in Paris,” Jaehyun repeats, “just that phrase sounds wonderful.”

“It does, doesn't it,” Doyoung muses, pulling a light coat over himself. “Come on, let’s go.”

They take the metro to Champs-Élysees. The smell of rain still lingers in the evening air. The atmosphere is much different from Cannes. Jaehyun has approximately five hours until his flight. 

Doyoung takes him to a nice restaurant. They order food and make small talk. It’s familiar, the way they make conversation over wine and oysters. They’ve done it hundreds of times, from when they first started seeing each other up to when their careers were in full bloom, and yet, Jaehyun thinks, he could never get tired of listening to Doyoung speak about his day, he could never get tired of watching the way candlelight reflects in his eyes, the way his hair glows a bit golden, the way his hands carefully cradle his glass of wine.

The thing with Doyoung is– he’s incredibly handsome. He looks like he’s in his early twenties with his smooth skin and sharp eyes. He hasn’t changed much over the years when they were together and apart, Jaehyun has noticed that long ago, but he’s left breathless each time. 

“So,” Doyoung starts, “there was something you wanted to talk to me about.”

“Ah, yes,” Jaehyun puts down his cutlery. “Ten suggested he turns The Endless Blue into a movie.”

Doyoung looks interested. “What did you say?”

“I said I’ll think about it.”

“Say yes,” Doyoung says. 

“Should I?”

“I think yes. It’s a good opportunity to get closure for it and everything you went through because of it. If the movie takes off, it would be very nice and fulfilling. Those critics will eat their words,” he laughs. “Besides, I would love to see it become a movie.”

Jaehyun smiles. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“All great writers weren’t appreciated when they were active. Look at Franz Kafka, Kate Chopin, Edgar Allan Poe. Look at painters, musicians. There’s a pattern here.”

“Hey, I’m not dead yet.”

“What I’m saying is – you weren’t active for five years. I’m sure some people went back to your book, reread it, developed other opinions on it. Don’t you think? It becoming a movie will give it depth, too.”

“But if it doesn’t do well?”

“Then that’s on the people. Ten’s movies always boom with success, I’m sure this won’t be an exception.”

“I see you’re quite up to date with the movie industry,” Jaehyun comments.

“How can I not be,” Doyoung says, “when a very special person to me was in it.”

Jaehyun smiles. “Is that so?”

“Then he quit, but I still followed the news in hopes of hearing from him again. After five years he finally returned.”

Jaehyun’s smile wavers a little. “Your friend was going through a lot.”

“I don’t blame him,” Doyoung says, “As mad and worried as I was at him, I could only hope for him to be happy and healthy.”

“Your friend feels sorry,” Jaehyun says.

“And so do I, but we’ve already sorted it out, haven't we?” his smile is small but kind. 

“I would like to hope so.”

They take the metro to the airport shortly after the meal. 

“I will take up on Ten’s offer,” Jaehyun tells Doyoung on the ride in the taxi. “I’ll focus on the movie, I’ll get myself together, I’ll even stop smoking. It’s time I do.”

Doyoung says, “Take little steps.”

Jaehyun gives him a smile. “Things will be okay.” He says it more to himself more than to Doyoung, but Doyoung still answers, “They will be.”

They don’t speak during the rest of the ride. 

“I wish you would have stayed for longer,” Doyoung says by the gate. “I don’t know when we’ll see each other in person again.”

“Paris and Cannes aren’t that far apart.”

“I know, but now that we have to part after meeting again they feel oceans away.”

“Believe me, I know.” And then Jaehyun kisses Doyoung’s hand softly. He anticipates a rejection at the back of his mind, for Doyoung to pull his hand away, but he only sees Doyoung smile. It’s as far as Jaehyun will go tonight, although he would like to kiss Doyoung’s cheek at least. 

Doyoung sends him off with a wave of his hand. Jaehyun thinks he’s young and in his twenties again, with the way his heart starts beating fast against his rib cage as he waves back. 

—

“I accept your proposition,” Jaehyun says as soon as he steps inside Ten’s suite. 

“Oh, these are wonderful news,” Ten smiles at him, letting him in. He raises a bottle of scotch by the minibar, eyes questioning.

“Let’s open it,” Jaehyun says, “There’s nothing quite like drinking in broad daylight now, is there.”

Ten ushers Jaehyun to the balcony. “Sorry, I don’t have ice. I hope it’s cold enough.”

Jaehyun nods. “It’s cool.” Ten sits beside him.

“It’s not quite like the view from your room,” Ten comments, taking a sip of the alcohol. “Yours is wonderful, of the blue waves, I wish I had a view like that.”

“I know,” Jaehyun says, “I could spend hours just staring at the sea.”

“Your book is inspired by the sea, isn’t it?” Ten asks.

“Yes, I used to frequent it with Doyoung a lot.”

“Ah, Doyoung,” Ten muses, “I could feel your love flow through that book. It’s beautiful, really, to see a love so pure.”

Jaehyun hopes his ears aren’t red. “That was years ago.”

“And yet the sea stays the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many years pass. I doubt your love has been washed away by the tides.”

Jaehyun smiles. “It hasn’t been.”

Ten says, “It’s good to see you look better, Jaehyun. They say the sea air in Cannes heals, perhaps it does. You’ve been here for a while now, right? Your face looks healthier.”

Jaehyun hasn’t noticed it. It’s gradual, the feeling of doing better or doing worse. Jaehyun doesn’t think he can get rid of the sadness inside him entirely, but it’s a start. He has been sleeping better these several days, which reduces his exhaustion during the afternoons. He feels like he can function normally without wanting to sleep all the time for once. Perhaps Ten is right. Cannes heals, perhaps because Doyoung was in it. 

Ten is an open-minded person, everyone knows that. It’s a fact, based off the movies he makes and the scandals he gets into. And Ten certainly doesn’t judge Jaehyun for his relationship with Doyoung, for which Jaehyun is glad. There aren’t many people with whom Jaehyun can confide with about his heart, not with his family, certainly not with the public. He thinks, in Ten he can find more than a business partner, a colleague, he can find a loyal friend.

With Ten’s suggestion Jaehyun picks out a filming location in Étretat. The cliffs of Normandy have always appealed to him, although he admits the sunny days of Côte d'Azur do have their charms. They don’t start filming right away. They go through a casting, through script changes. Jaehyun calls in Yuta to help with the screenplay. It takes half a year. 

During these six months, it’s Ten who listens to what Jaehyun has to say about their past, it’s Ten who proposes that Jaehyun writes letters to Doyoung, and it’s Ten who keeps cheering him on. 

“You’ve been mailing him for half a year now,” Ten says. It’s a statement. “Don’t tell me you only talk about mundane things, how boring would that be.”

“We do,” Jaehyun replies. “It’s nice, to see how Doyoung is doing, what he does during the day. It’s like a way to reconnect.”

“You’re both beating around the bush, aren’t you,” Ten almost whines. “I have to endure your lovesick expression every time you receive those letters. It makes me feel love sick, too.”

Jaehyun laughs. “There’s no rush now, is there? Six years is a long time apart. I think the letters are a good start to rebuild whatever we lost.”

Ten says, “This is all so painfully slow. Just go to Paris and kiss him senseless.”

Jaehyun reddens, “Don’t say that so boldly.” 

“I know you want to,” Ten retorts.

Jaehyun gives Ten a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Thanks for your concern.”

“I want what’s best for you both,” Ten says, “You’re both my treasured friends.”

“We’re getting there,” Jaehyun smiles. “Hopefully.”

It’s in February when Jaehyun receives a flower bouquet. Roses have never looked so beautiful in winter. 

He gets a call from Doyoung later that afternoon.

“Have you received my flowers?” Doyoung asks. His voice is so soothing, so melodic, Jaehyun has missed him. They don’t call often, both of them being busy with their lives and jobs, but when they do, it feels like no time has passed. Perhaps time moves differently when you’re older, Jaehyun sometimes thinks, it moves fast but it has the ability to slow down when needed. Like now, it feels like time as stopped in its hectic pace to treasure this phone call. 

“I have. Thank you, they’re wonderful.” 

“How’s filming?”

“We’re about to start. I’ll have to move to Étretat temporarily for that.”

“I see. Would you visit me soon?”

“If you want me to.”

“I need you to.” Doyoung says it with so much conviction, Jaehyun can’t help but smile. 

“Then I shall.” 

—

It’s the fifth time this week that Jaehyun finds himself arguing with Doyoung. Doyoung had come back home late tired and cranky, and Jaehyun was out of it because of the stress. They sat at the table and had dinner for the first time together in weeks, only it evolved from silence to being annoyed by the little things into a full blown argument.

“The food is burnt.” Doyoung comments offhandedly. 

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “Seriously? I cook us dinner for the first time in a while because we haven’t spent any time together and this is what you have to say?”

Doyoung puts his cutlery down. He sighs, “My head is pounding, Jaehyun. I had a long day. I’m sorry I can’t compliment you right now.” 

“You keep saying sorry for this and for that,” Jaehyun says, “yet you still don’t do anything. You don’t even talk to me. And when we do, we fight. We haven't had a single nice conversation in weeks. When was the last time you kissed me?”

“I am busy, Jaehyun, you are too,” Doyoung says. “We both are working hard. Why are you so high strung?”

“Why? Because this is getting suffocating. I can’t breathe around you because you snap at me.” 

“You can’t breathe around me, huh,” Doyoung says, standing up and putting his plate in the sink. “So I suffocate you? All right. Let’s talk about how you suffocate _me_. Always taking things to heart when I give you feedback for your book, I never know how to deal with you. You’re a grown man, Jaehyun, you should accept some criticism.”

“How is telling me my book is shit _help_? I am asking for you to support me, not give me unwarranted criticism.”

“Oh, shut up, Jaehyun,” Doyoung argues, “I am simply being honest with you. I have supported you for years and I was always by your side. I have given you criticism before, yet now it’s making you act weird. This is just your first draft, you should relax a little.”

Jaehyun clenches his fists, “I can’t relax, not when we’re arguing so much. I don’t want to argue, Doyoung. I don’t see you for an entire day and all I want to do is hug you and kiss you and not this, never this.”

Doyoung deflates a little. He takes Jaehyun’s hands. “I’m sorry. I miss you too.”

“Is the draft really not good?”

“It’s all over the place, but it’s not bad at all,” Doyoung says, “I’m sorry if I sound mean. You know being a full time singer is something new to me, and I haven’t adjusted to it yet. You’re a remarkable writer, Jaehyun, never forget that.”

Jaehyun relaxes, all the anger leaving his body. He puts his head on Doyoung’s shoulder. “Fighting will get us nowhere.”

“Every relationship goes through a rocky patch,” Doyoung tries to lessen the tension in the air. “We’ve been together for a while now, it shouldn’t break us.”

They kiss and go to bed afterwards. Jaehyun circles an arm over Doyoung’s waist, and pulls him close so they’re facing each other, chest to chest. Doyoung’s eyes are closed, but Jaehyun can tell he isn’t sleeping. 

“I love you,” Jaehyun whispers.

“As do I,” Doyoung whispers back. He falls asleep not long after. 

Jaehyun thinks, things should get easier after this. After things go down they usually should start looking upwards, but Jaehyun notices that as the weeks go by and Doyoung’s popularity rises, their arguing doesn’t stop. It’s not something Jaehyun knows how to deal with, Doyoung is his first and only serious relationship, and they never used to fight so much. It’s not even fighting sometimes, it’s just plain ignoring. Doyoung is cold to him, refusing his affections, sitting far away from him, sleeping in another room. There’s something bothering him, Jaehyun can tell, but he can’t guess what.

Doyoung says he’s okay, that he’s just stressed, but Jaehyun can feel that it’s something deeper. It’s something that weighs Doyoung down like an anchor, a root of insecurity, and even when Jaehyun has his arms around Doyoung in a warm embrace, Doyoung won’t seem to stop shaking slightly. Jaehyun would whisper comforting words in his ear, would try to get him to relax, but the tension won’t leave Doyoung no matter what. 

Although sometimes, it’s like things are okay. Doyoung looks like he’s doing okay; he kisses Jaehyun sweetly and holds him close, they talk for hours. But Jaehyun notices that Doyoung is putting up a front, his expressions are strained and his hands shake when he holds Jaehyun. But because he’s trying, he’s trying for it to look like there’s nothing worrying him, that things are okay, Jaehyun wills himself to put a blind eye to the fact that their relationship has already long cracked. 

Jaehyun thinks of himself as a romantic person. He was born on Valentine’s day, like the stars in the sky have aligned for him and him only. He started writing poems about romance from an early age and grew up to be a novelist. It’s fate, he often thinks, his birthday date is like part of his identity, of his being. He’s always dreamed of starting a family someday, although when growing up he realized he might have complications with that. He can’t marry Doyoung, not legally, he can’t give him an engagement ring, however he could give him something symbolic instead. 

It has been on Jaehyun’s mind a lot, especially recently despite their distance. It might be foolish to try and save a failing relationship this way, Jaehyun thinks, yet he enters the jewelry shop from a couple of streets down. 

Jaehyun comes back from his stroll to see Doyoung by the kitchen, a wine bottle opened and a cigarette between his fingers. Doyoung hates drinking during the day and he absolutely hates smoking. There’s an aura of gloom and exhaustion in the air, and judging by how distressed Doyoung looks, a bad feeling grows in Jaehyun’s stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asks, sitting beside him. 

“Everything, Jaehyun. I can’t do this,” Doyoung whispers. The cigarette trembles in between his fingertips and then falls onto the tablecloth, burning it. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“This. Us. It’s too risky. People finding us out is too risky.”

“How can they possibly find anything about us?”

Doyoung has brought this topic up several times now. The possibility of being outed was something that terrified Doyoung more than anything, and that fear has only been growing ever since he threw himself into the public eye.

“People talk.” Doyoung says. He sounds tired, oh so tired. “There are already speculations. We live together, after all. Which two men live together? It was manageable when it was only you who was famous, but now I’m getting attention too, and it’s terrifying.”

Jaehyun places a hand over Doyoung’s. Doyoung spares a glances at the gesture. He has dark circles under his eyes. For how many days has he slept badly? Jaehyun didn’t even notice. 

“Our careers are at stake here. What if you lose your reputation, what if I lose my career? This is all too much for me, Jaehyun, I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun says, biting on the inside of his cheek. “I get it.”

“You understand?” Doyoung looks up at him. 

Jaehyun nods. A part of him always knew that this would happen sooner or later. It’s the nature of discreet relationships like these, even though the romantic in Jaehyun believed, hoped they would defy all odds. He thinks about how they’ve been distant for months now, how their relationship is on the verge of falling apart. Some things are too good to last. 

“In that case, I think we should break up.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen.

“Since our careers are on the line, it would be better to just end this.”

“What? No, Jaehyun–”

“Let’s be honest, Doyoung, we haven’t been going strong these months. Ever since we had that big argument not much has changed, and you know it.”

Doyoung looks confused for a moment but then his shoulders slump. He buries his face in his hands, exasperated. Jaehyun can feel the thoughts in Doyoung’s head, the way his presses his hands further into his face as if to get rid of the dilemma. There’s a long pause. 

“Perhaps you’re right,” Doyoung says. “Perhaps this is for the best.”

Jaehyun wraps his arms around Doyoung gently. Doyoung stiffens, and doesn't relax. They don’t talk. Jaehyun doesn’t know what to say to him, he can’t find any words that he could say to him. It’s minutes of painful silence. Jaehyun tastes bitterness on the tip of his tongue, he tastes sadness. There’s a box inside the pocket of his coat, and it burns.

Doyoung retreats to bed not long after. He bids Jaehyun a quiet goodnight and Jaehyun nods in his direction. After Doyoung closes the door to his room Jaehyun doesn’t move from the kitchen for a long time. He sits on the chair and stares at nothing, Doyoung’s words sinking in. His own words sinking in. He runs a hand through his hair and takes out the box from his pocket and opens it, stares at the ring inside of it and thinks of throwing it away. He goes to sleep on the couch. 

In the morning he packs a suitcase. Throws in all of essential belongings, drafts, books, hides the ring box in his clothes. When Doyoung sees him packing, he looks perplexed. 

“What are you doing?”

“I think I’ll move out for a bit,” Jaehyun replies, trying not to look in Doyoung’s way. It would hurt too much. “It would be for the best.”

“Wait,” Doyoung says. He looks alarmed. “You can’t just leave. You can’t just go so suddenly.” 

“Doyoung, I don’t think I can stay here.”

Doyoung looks distraught. He takes Jaehyun’s wrist, fits their palms together. “No, Jaehyun, wait. Don’t go. I don’t want to break up. I was in a bad mood yesterday, I didn’t mean that.”

“But you were right,” Jaehyun says. “Us being together is too dangerous. I can’t risk your health or safety.”

“Don’t do this”, Doyoung pleads. “Please, just stay.” 

“I’m sorry, Doyoung,” Jaehyun shakes his head. “We should take a break. Maybe it will do us good. After a few days or weeks, when we’ve cooled off, we could try again.”

Doyoung says, sounding sure but also a bit hopeless, “You won’t come back.”

Jaehyun gives him a tired smile. “I need to clear my thoughts, to focus on the book. You need to focus on singing, on your career. Distance will do us both good. People won’t bother you anymore.”

Doyoung runs a hand through his hair. He looks on the verge of tears. Jaehyun leans in to kiss Doyoung slowly. Doyoung’s hands circle behind his neck as he kisses back. He pulls away first with acceptance in his eyes and silently helps him pack. By the door, Jaehyun cradles Doyoung’s cheek, which is now wet. They haven’t spoken for the past hour. He gives Doyoung one last kiss, puts on a coat on and leaves. 

—

Doyoung picks him up from the airport in Paris. He has a huge bouquet of flowers for Jaehyun that he gives to him in the car.

“I wish I could give you them publicly, but, you know,” Doyoung says timidly.

“They’re beautiful, Doyoung, thank you,” Jaehyun says. The bouquet is of tulips and lilies, and it’s so uncharacteristic to see them in winter, but that only makes them even more beautiful.

In the half a year Jaehyun hasn’t seen Doyoung, his hair has grown longer, his eyes look less tired. He’s wearing a warm trench coat, even though winters in Paris aren’t cold. It’s a bit funny, Jaehyun thinks, how he and Doyoung don’t see each other for such long periods of time. It’s normal to not see him for six years, then another six months. 

Jaehyun’s staying in Paris only for the weekend.

“I’ll have to go to Étretat after this,” Jaehyun explains. “Ten is strict when it comes to his profession.”

“He’s a marvellous man,” Doyoung says, steering onto a highway. “And you’ve become quite busy yourself.”

“It’s a nice change of pace,” Jaehyun says. “I didn’t know how much I loved working. It keeps me tired and moving and I don’t have any energy to be consumed by my thoughts. It’s like I’m getting myself out of this depressive loop finally. I stopped smoking, too.”

“That’s great to hear, Jaehyun,” Doyoung smiles. “I hope filming will go well.”

“Ten says it’ll take us a year at most, maybe another six months on top of that. He says time will fly by fast.”

“He’s right. At our age, time flies.”

Jaehyun nods. He’s not getting any younger, but lately it feels like he still has his a lot of life ahead of him. It’s a weird feeling. For many years has Jaehyun dreaded each new day only to suddenly be okay with the sun rising every morning. Or maybe it’s not so suddenly, maybe it’s gradual, but Jaehyun hasn’t noticed when the switch inside him was flipped. Now that he thinks about it, his days no longer seem as blurry. “Where are we headed?”

“You can drop off your suitcase at my place and then we can get something to eat. How does that sound?”

“Could you cook instead?” Jaehyun asks. 

“Okay,” Doyoung laughs. “I could.”

Dinner dates were their thing. Jaehyun was the one who would usually cook, but Doyoung wasn’t bad himself either. Jaehyun had an old recipe book that was passed down from his grandma, it was old and contained generational secrets, and all of Jaehyun’s dishes could be traced to that book. Doyoung’s tea, however, was the best. 

It was a tradition of sorts: Jaehyun would pick Doyoung up from the bar and they would drive to his apartment, Jaehyun would cook him a meal no matter how late or early it was and they would talk for as much as time allowed. That was in the early stage of their relationship. Everything was as smooth as the sea on a calm day, no waves roaring or white foam by the shore.

Now that Jaehyun thinks about it, the last time he’d cooked for Doyoung was when they had a huge argument. He didn’t touch a pan ever since after that, having lived in hotels for the past half of a decade, eating restaurant food. Oh, the money he could have saved.

Doyoung parks his car right under his apartment window. He lives on the third floor, so dragging the suitcase up the stairs isn’t much of a problem for Jaehyun. His apartment is spacious but modest. The interior is very Parisian, and the view is pretty. 

“You can leave the suitcase in the hallway,” Doyoung says. “The bathroom is to the left; I’ll go start cooking now. Would a steak be okay for you? Medium rare is still your favourite, right?”

Jaehyun nods, a smile creeping on his face. He didn’t think Doyoung would remember. Jaehyun washes his hands in the sink and then takes time to observe the apartment. He notices it’s full of plants and flowers. They had a few potted plants back when they lived together, but here there’s just an abundance of them, and it makes the apartment look so cozy, Jaehyun likes it.

He makes it to the kitchen and sits on a chair, watching Doyoung cook. Doyoung always did things with a certain elegance to them, whether it would be singing on stage or just cooking dinner. His forearms are exposed by the sleeves of his shirt being rolled back, his posture is straight and he looks concentrated. 

“Do you still cook?” Doyoung asks, back turned to Jaehyun, not taking his eyes off the food.

“Haven’t in a while,” Jaehyun replies, “I’m a restaurant man now.”

“Ah, what a shame,” Doyoung says, “you’re a much better cook than I am.”

Jaehyun laughs. “I’m out of practice meanwhile you’ve honed you’re skill. I’m sure you’ve surpassed me.”

Doyoung smiles. He cuts up some vegetables and then fills the kettle with water from the sink. The atmosphere is ambient, almost like back in the old days. Only a radio is missing. Jaehyun thanks Doyoung for the meal and then they eat together. It’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. 

Jaehyun wonders, how would things go with Doyoung now? They had talked things out, have been writing letters to each other for the past six months, and now flowers have come into the picture.

“So,” Jaehyun starts, “are the bouquets going to be a thing now?”

Doyoung looks timid. “If you want to, yes. I can’t be physically with you in Étretat or wherever you are, but the flowers, as a piece of me, can.”

Jaehyun softens. “It’s sad they don’t live long enough.”

“Then I’ll just send you more.”

The tea Doyoung prepares is just as good as Jaehyun remembers. He needs to hold himself back from going down memory lane, because he’s here in the present and they’re sitting here right now not to reminisce the past, but the work for the future. 

“I’ve booked a hotel room,” Jaehyun says. “Would you drive me there? We can see each other tomorrow.”

Doyoung nods. “I would offer you to stay, but I only have one bed, you see.” The fact that they used to share a bed for years is left unsaid. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and we could go to brunch. I want you to meet my friends, you remember Taeil and Johnny, right?”

“Yes.” Johnny Suh was Doyoung’s friends from back when he worked at the bar. He was a pianist, often the one who accompanied Doyoung’s singing, and Moon Taeil was another fellow singer whom Jaehyun had met several times when Doyoung decided to sing professionally. 

Taeil and Johnny are very amiable, very polite. They’re respectable figures in their industries, with a taste for everything glamorous. They picked out a place for brunch in a nice restaurant in the heart of Paris. How nice it is, Jaehyun thinks, to be rich. All you do is eat and eat and know no worries. 

Doyoung had picked him up at ten, dressed in the same warm trench coat, gloves on his hands. The ride was short, although they parked far from the venue due to the lack of parking places in the center. 

“Winters in Paris are nice, aren’t they?” Doyoung says.

“Indeed they are,” Jaehyun replies, hands in his pockets. Jaehyun has always found winters in Europe to be pleasant. The above centigrade temperatures, the lack of snow, the lovely skies – they all had their charm. They were cold enough to leave Jaehyun’s cheek rosy but warm enough to not freeze him to death. Jaehyun holds the restaurant door open for Doyoung. 

“You first,” he says. 

Doyong laughs and tips his head. They spot Doyoung’s friends sitting by a round table in the center of the dining hall. Jaehyun shakes hands with Johnny first, they were more well acquainted back then. Whenever Jaehyun visited the bar, he made sure to engage in small talk with Johnny once in a while. 

“Hello, Johnny,” Jaehyun says. “It’s been a while.”

Johnny looks more mature, like someone who has his life figured out and under control. If anything, he’s aged like fine wine, rarely as pianists do. Johnny gives him a warm smile, his grip firm around Jaehyun’s hand. 

“A long while,” Johnny replies, smiling.

Then Jaehyun shakes hands with Taeil. He and Taeil have talked formally only once at a party in Doyoung’s honour. Back then, Taeil was already a famous figure in the industry, now he’s even more. But even with fame and money, he hasn’t lost the genuineness in his eyes, the kindness in his smile. He pulls Jaehyun into a short hug. “Jaehyun!” he says, “how much you’ve grown.”

They sit down around the table, Doyoung and Jaehyun next to each other. Jaehyun doesn’t feel very hungry, but he opts for smoked salmon. It’s refreshing to see that Taeil refuses alcohol and instead orders water.

“When I was young,” Taeil says, “I got into an accident, developed speech problems. My mother took me to a doctor, and the doctor told me: no drinking, no smoking, and that I should do music. So I drink only on special occasions, and Jaehyun, as special as you are, I’m sure you’ll be fine with a glass of sparkling water.” 

Jaehyun laughs. It’s easy, it feels so easy to be having a conversation with Doyoung’s friends. A part of him had worried about what Johnny and Taeil might think of him, but Jaehyun isn’t in his twenties anymore, and they aren’t either; they’re all grown ups, and their perception of each other isn’t swayed that much by past breakups. 

“This place is lovely,” Jaehyun comments. 

Taeil and Johnny, Jaehyun notices, are of a different social circle. Meanwhile Jaehyun’s consists of flourishing pompous directors and movie producers who drink every day and work themselves into self destruction for their art, Doyoung’s respect themselves and are a bit more humble. Their topics don’t touch philosophical questions of being, much like Yuta likes to ponder about, or party shenanigans and invites unlike Ten, who speaks of throwing grandiose parties just because he doesn’t know what to do with his money; they have a nice chat about life and their past years, and it’s just pleasant to Jaehyun, who hasn’t had normal conversations not related to the pressuring of his career in a long time. 

“I heard from Doyoung that you’re working with with Lee Ten on a movie,” Johnny brings up. “I have to say I’m quite looking forward to it. I admit I’m a big fan of your works, and I’m glad to see that you’re back in the industry.”

“Oh, yes,” Taeil says, “I was so sad to hear you had stopped writing. What would I read my daughters to bed if not your novels?”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun smiles, “I am very flattered. Ten had convinced me to base a movie off my book. The filming will start soon, in Étretat.”

“I also heard you were planning on retiring?” Johnny asks, curious.

“Something like that,” Jaehyun says. “But who knows, maybe inspiration will strike me. As stressful as the industry is, I love to write.”

There’s a piano in the corner of the restaurant. The staff let Johnny play for a bit, and even Taeil doesn’t refrain from singing a song or two. Doyoung refuses to perform, however he shifts his chair so he could sit closer to Jaehyun, so he could put a hand on his thigh. Jaehyun sends Doyoung a questioning look, but Doyoung doesn’t look his way. 

They order tea and dessert, and after that part ways with promises to see each other at the premiere of Jaehyun’s movie. Doyoung and Jaehyun walk back to the car under a clear winter sky.

“How do you feel?” Doyoung asks.

“Good,” Jaehyun says. “Taeil and Johnny are great. It’s funny, there’s such a huge difference between them and my colleagues even though we’re around the same age. Yuta talks about getting wasted meanwhile Taeil talks about tucking his daughters to sleep. Directors and producers seem to be forever young, prioritising their careers over starting a family. Ah, we’re getting old, aren’t we? We should settle down sooner or later.”

Jaehyun thinks back to when Taeil showed him photographs of his two daughters he keeps in his wallet, and as much as Jaehyun’s heart warmed it also sank. How lucky Taeil is, Jaehyun thought, that he could start a family without any problems. Have children. Jaehyun doesn't have that luxury. He doesn’t know if he can settle down any time soon, or if he should continue to be secretive and discrete about whom he dates, and it’s not like Jaehyun has dated anyone seriously except Doyoung, either. It’s an upsetting reality, really, but it’s not like Jaehyun can do anything.

“Starting a family would be nice, yes,” Doyoung says, “though I don’t know if I could ever start one. Not in this lifetime, maybe.”

“We’re on the same page,” Jaehyun laments. Doyoung unlocks his car. It’s a bit chilly inside of it so Doyoung turns on the heater, then the radio. 

“Do you have any plans for today?” Doyoung asks.

“No, I don’t really plan an itinerary for two-day trips.”

Doyoung thinks for a moment. “I don’t think we’ve ever been up the Eiffel Tower.”

Jaehyun laughs. “I suppose we haven’t. Are you saying we should act like tourists?”

Doyoung shrugs, “Why not? We are in the city of love, after all.”

“The city of love,” Jaehyun repeats. “Standing in a queue for two hours then being crammed into a small elevator with tens of people only to end up with even more people at the viewing spot indeed does sound romantic.” 

Doyoung gives him a pointed look. “Then you suggest something.”

Jaehyun laughs again. “I don’t mind. Let’s go.”

They decide to drive back to Doyoung’s apartment so they could leave the car and take the metro instead. “We should’ve done that in the first place,” Jaehyun says, “Paris wasn’t made for cars.”

“I didn’t think we would go to the Eiffel Tower today,” Doyoung says.

“It was your idea.”

“Don’t speak,” Doyoung grumbles. “Let’s hurry, in case the weather gets bad.”

Jaehyun hooks their arms together. “Just until we reach the metro,” he says, smiling, and Doyoung thankfully doesn’t shake him off. Jaehyun glances at Doyoung’s face; his cheeks are coloured a light pink, and not because of the cold. 

They reach the Eiffel Tower not that long after. There’s no queue because of the season and for that Jaehyun is thankful. They quickly get on top, the entirety of Paris right under them. Jaehyun has avoided the top of the Tower for many reasons, but without the swarm of people around them, it’s not so bad, despite the bare trees and faded grass. They walk outside to a deck, where a gust of wind hits them in the face. 

“I didn’t think it would be so windy up here,” Doyoung says, eyes wide. “But it’s so breathtaking.”

Jaehyun unwraps his scarf and wraps it around Doyoung instead. Doyoung makes a noise of protest, a we’re-in-public type of one, but Jaehyun ignores him.

“There’s no one here,” Jaehyun says quietly. “It’s just a scarf, no one cares.” 

Doyoung hesitates. He’s always been cautious of receiving affection or any forms of caring gestures in public, even after all these years. He mumbles a thank you, and they observe the city from the top for a while.

“It’s funny how we’ve never been up here,” Jaehyun says. “It’s a hotspot.”

“Paris looks prettier with the tower in it,” Doyoung comments. “We should go down and walk around the tower. I don’t know if they sell ice cream in winter, but in summer it’s delicious.”

“How long have you been living in Paris?”

“Two years, nearly.”

“And before that?”

“Our apartment,” Doyoung says. “I couldn’t– I couldn’t leave it for a long time. I thought you would come back. I was waiting.”

Jaehyun frowns, the familiar irregular beating of his heart taking over. “Let’s go down. We should talk about this elsewhere.”

The elevator ride down is silent. Doyoung looks deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed and head downcast. Jaehyun takes him to a park. Besides a few people, there isn’t much of a crowd. They sit down on a bench. 

“Looks like we haven’t talked things out fully,” Jaehyun says, voice low. 

“I guess not.”

Doyoung is facing him, looking into his soul. Jaehyun takes in a deep breath. “Do you know why I never reached out to you all these years?”

Doyoung says, “I might have an inkling.”

“Remember the day before I left?” Jaehyun leans back on the bench and looks into the distance. The sky is painted grey with heavy clouds. It might rain soon. “When you said you couldn’t do this–the relationship–anymore.”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, biting on his bottom lip in worry, “you know I wasn’t in the right headspace when I said that. I was overwhelmed and I said some things that were in the heat of the moment.”

“But you weren’t wrong,” Jaehyun says, “I know you were thinking about it for a while.”

“I was,” Doyoung admits, “but only because I was concerned for our safety. We were fighting, yes, but I couldn’t imagine you not being in my life.”

“I thought you meant what you said,” Jaehyun says quietly, “I took it to heart. I thought it would be safer if I left, if I didn’t reach out, if I stayed away.” 

Doyoung looks heartbroken. “Oh, Jaehyun.” He takes Jaehyun’s hand and squeezes it, he wants to say more but Jaehyun beats him to it.

“It’s just,” Jaehyun says, “you agreed to break up so _easily_ when I suggested it, without any hesitation, and I thought, oh, okay, I guess I should return the ring I bought just moments prior.”

“Jaehyun.”

“I just felt so foolish, Doyoung. I bought that ring in hopes of saving our relationship, I thought if I had proposed you would feel better, but instead you agreed that it would be best to break up without a fight. It hit me like a brick in the face. I wanted a life with you and you wanted to end it. And then, how was I supposed to contact you after that? I didn’t know what to say to you, I didn’t know what you thought of me. I felt so rejected and so confused I thought it would just be better to stay away even if it hurt us both. I thought, if you hated me, then at least you wouldn’t worry about being outed anymore because of me.”

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung takes Jaehyun’s face in his hands, wipes his thumbs over his cheeks. “There are tears in your eyes.”

“Ah,” Jaehyun says, realizing his vision is blurry. He blinks them away. “I suppose there are.” 

Doyoung presses kisses to the corner of Jaehyun’s eyes.

“We’re in public,” Jaehyun whispers, heart beating fast against his will.

“No one’s here,” Doyoung murmurs, parroting Jaehyun’s words from before without any bite to them. He puts Jaehyun’s head on his shoulder, strokes his hair with his cold hands. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I never realized that my words have affected you this much. For so long have I been upset at you, I never even considered your own worries and struggles. I feel so guilty now, blaming you for breaking my heart when I’ve broken yours just as much.”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun says, “it’s been years.”

“A miserable six years,” Doyoung says and Jaehyun laughs. “I’ve never once stopped loving you, Jaehyun, not even for a second. Not when we were dating, not when we were fighting, not when you left, not even now.”

Jaehyun finds himself smiling. “Neither have I.”

“When I first saw you at Ten’s after party I was so mad, you know. I had so many things that I wanted to say to your face, I wanted to demand so many answers, but then you looked at me with those half-dead eyes of yours and the words just died at the tip of my tongue. I was so scared, Jaehyun, I’ve never seen you looking so tired and miserable.”

Jaehyun says, “Ah, yes, you were pretty amicable with me.”

“During that moment I thought to myself, who cares if you disappeared without a trace? How could I say anything to you when you looked like _that_? I only wanted to be by your side, all I wanted was for you to be okay again.’’

“I’m sorry for worrying,” Jaehyun says.

“The timing was so bad,” Doyoung continues, “I had to leave for Paris the day after we talked in Nice, and I had no way of checking up on you except for occasional phone calls or letters or through Ten, moreover I felt like it wasn’t my right to do so anymore, you know? Since we weren’t together. But I just couldn’t leave you alone.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, “The timing was just perfect. If not for you,” he says, “I don’t know what I would be doing right now.”

“Are you doing better?” Doyoung asks. “Be honest, are you feeling okay now?”

“That’s difficult to answer,’’ Jaehyun says after a minute of thought. “Sometimes I feel like I’m doing good, but then the emptiness hits me when I least expect it, or sometimes I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom, but then start feeling okay again. But I can say one thing, because of your flowers I have something to look forward to every week. In fact, they make me happy to wake up even during the lowest days. And being with you physically close is even better, it’s like I can forget the melancholy inside of me and focus on what’s present.”

Doyoung hides his face in his hands. “I’m so glad, Jaehyun,” he says. “That at least you feel a bit better than before.”

“I don’t think I can get rid of the sadness,” Jaehyun thinks out loud. “It’s been part of me for so long it’s like a constant by now.”

“Then I won’t let it grow,” Doyoung says. “I won’t let it spread. I’m here for you. Jaehyun. You’re not alone. If you need help or anything, you could always turn to me, or Yuta, or Ten, or whoever.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun smiles a little, “I guess I can. thank you.”

He feels Doyoung squeeze their hands again, then a drop of rain on the top of his head. “It’s going to pour,” Doyoung says, “we should hurry back.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “We won’t make it to the metro even if we hurry. Let’s buy an umbrella.”

Winter rains are cold. Raindrops fall sparsely from the sky as they walk into a shop to buy one black umbrella, but by the time they walk out of it it’s a downpour.

“I was right by saying the weather would get bad,” Doyoung says. He lets Jaehyun hold the umbrella. It’s big enough for two, but Jaehyun still tilts a bit in Doyoung’s direction. 

“We were lucky, then,” Jaehyun says. “I’ve almost forgotten what rains are like in Paris. I bet it’s sunny right now in Cannes.” 

“You could always go back to Cannes then,” Doyoung comments and Jaehyun laughs, “Cannes is not that charming without you.”

It’s not a long walk to the nearest metro. The majority of people all fled from the streets into the warmth of their homes, as if leaving Jaehyun and Doyoung alone to get drenched in the rain.

“You know, there’s something I wanted to do,” Jaehyun starts. “Something to finish off this romantic day in the city of love.”

“What is it?” Doyoung asks, amused. 

Jaehyun looks in all directions. When he’s sure there are no people close to them he tilts the umbrella to the side so their faces are completely covered, then cups Doyoung’s face and kisses him on the lips. 

He smiles. “This.”

Doyoung’s eyes flutter open, and Jaehyun feels butterflies in his chest he hasn’t felt in years.

“Oh, Jaehyun,” Doyoung whispers before he pulls him into another kiss, “you make me feel twenty-three all over again.”

—

Étretat is gorgeous. The chalk cliffs, the rocky beach, the turquoise sea. Jaehyun thinks of Monet and his paintings whenever he thinks of Étretat, the thick rapid brush strokes, the broken colours, the beautiful harmony. Impressionism. 

“I can see why you prefer this city over Cannes,” Yuta says beside him. “There’s something so beautiful in it.” They’d climbed an observation deck and spent the last half an hour staring at the deep blue. It’s a day off from filming, so Jaehyun went out for a long stroll, Yuta joining him. 

“I didn’t think you’d tag along with me,” Jaehyun comments. “As far as I remember you’re not a fan of hiking.”

”On the contrary,” Yuta smiles. “I love nature. Call me basic, but it’s my main source of inspiration.”

“How’s your script going along?” Jaehyun asks. The way the spring wind blows at his face is warm, almost with the promises of summer, ruffling his hair. 

“Quite well,” Yuta says. After finishing the screenplay for Jaehyun he decided to work on his own stuff. “Slow but steady.”

“How’s Taeyong?”

“He’s good.” Yuta says. “He told me he wishes to work with me forever.”

“Is this what modern romance is like?” Jaehyun teases.

“You don’t say,” Yuta walks closer to him, puts a hand on his shoulder. He whispers, “Remember Ten’s party? Around a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“We had kissed for the first time then.”

“And to think I was looking for you,” Jaehyun laughs. “I’m glad things are working out for you.”

Yuta grins. “Don’t talk like you’re still single. Are you still receiving flowers from Doyoung?” 

“Every week,” Jaehyun says. “They’re always lovely.”

“Look at you,” Yuta says, now patting Jaehyun’s on the back, affectionate, “with colour in your cheeks and life in your eyes. You’ve come so far.”

“Have I?” 

“And don’t even try to deny it.” 

Jaehyun checks himself in the restaurant bathroom mirror later that day, and notices that the bags under his eyes are no longer purple, his cheeks are no longer hollow and he doesn’t look as miserable as he did a year ago. He can’t exactly pinpoint how that happened; maybe it’s his new active lifestyle because of the hectic shooting schedules, maybe it’s the fresh sea air, or the riddance of unhealthy habits, maybe it’s everything. Jaehyun can’t exactly pinpoint when he started feeling glad to be alive again. 

It’s still a very weird feeling. Jaehyun, having been used to being weighed down by the burden of existence can’t get used to the lightness in his shoulders. It’s weird to wake up in the morning and not wish to be dead. It’s weird to not hold a cigarette in between his fingertips anymore. It’s weird to not be plagued by self-hatred. 

The sadness is not entirely gone. It’s still there, at the back of Jaehyun’s mind, a gnawing feeling, the anxiety, the lump of guilt and restlessness. But Jaehyun knows how to keep it bay. He thinks he can tolerate it now. Ten offered him a good doctor he knew, and Jaehyun thinks if he’ll revert to his old self, he’ll give the man a call.

It’s also refreshing. It must be the sea, Jaehyun thinks. Life starts by the sea. Just like prehistoric fish crawled out from the sea millions of years ago on to the land and began the evolutionary chain of life, Jaehyun feels as if were born all over again. Or it must be the flowers Doyoung sends him, Jaehyun thinks, those pretty bouquets with letters attached to them, telling Jaehyun good luck with filming or telling him they miss him dearly. It’s something Jaehyun looks forward to, and Jaehyun doesn’t remember if he had anything he looked forward to years ago.

“Filming will start tomorrow at seven,” Ten says by the dinner table. Over the year he’s become more demanding and strict as a director, but he’s also become a great friend Jaehyun could always lean on. “Yuta, please do join us on set.”

“I would be honoured to.”

“Of course you would,” Ten smiles, “Jaehyun, pass me the salt, please.” 

“For how long will the filming last?” Yuta asks.

“Two years maximum is my bet,” Ten says thoughtfully, “maybe earlier, since Sicheng is so stellar and we almost never have to do double takes. If we wrap up in a year that would be phenomenal.”

“I think we can do it,” Jaehyun says, “It’s going so well so far.”

“It is. And it’s going to be a hit, I know just it,” Ten boasts. “I will premiere it at the Cannes Film Festival.”

“Oh, really?” Jaehyun asks. 

“Of course,” Ten says. “Yuta, I hope to see your movie there too.”

“I don’t work as fast,” Yuta laughs. “But I‘ll be sure to come, I highly anticipate this.”

“It will be grandiose,” Ten says. “Jaehyun, expect your books to sell out again. You’ll be a bestselling author again in no time.”

“I’m not planning to write any time soon,” Jaehyun smiles, polite.

“You should,” Ten says, “you really should. Your books deserve to be movies.’’

“I’ll think about it,” Jaehyun says, considering it. 

“Creativity isn’t a chore,” Yuta adds, “you don’t need to write books for the sake of writing them, write them because you want to. It’s not like you’re struggling or looking for fame, you’ve already had a taste of the luxury so now you can do as you please.”

“Maybe so,” Jaehyun says. After the meal he walks back to his hotel room, head craned up to look at the twinkling stars. The sky is a deep shade of shark blue; the breeze envelops him into a warm embrace. He reaches his suite in no time. It also has a view on the sea. It’s a habit, Jaehyun thinks, to always book sea-view suites. 

There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers lying on the table, and Jaehyun can’t help but smile. They’re daffodils this time, yellow and with another letter attached to them. Jaehyun reads it and grins. He then sits by the chair, reads over the timetable for tomorrow, goes over the script for the scene they’ll be shooting tomorrow. There’s a certain serenity to reading late in the evening, only the sounds of the waves and rustling of the pages of the script breaking the silence. There’s something about the waves themselves, their state of calmness, their endlessness. 

Jaehyun feels at peace inside. 

—

Jaehyun has visited this bar five times at least. The first time was by pure coincidence. He was roaming around the city and somehow strolled into a dark alley with music coming from underground. The second time was because the bartender scammed him of a couple euros and Jaehyun had returned to get his money back, and the third time onwards – because a singer caught his attention. Jaehyun wished he had noticed that singer the first time he went there, for his voice is angelic, and Jaehyun is undeniably charmed.

The singer is young. He sings every night at ten in the evening and finishes by eleven or twelve. Lounge music. Jaehyun had never been so interested in it before, but now oh, how he wants to write about the singer’s voice, his slender hands that hold the microphone. It’s not like Jaehyun’s interest is one-sided, the singer has noticed him multiple times. One time he winked Jaehyun’s way, another time they held eye contact for minutes. Now it’s his break time, and Jaehyun waits for the moment he could talk to him. 

Jaehyun sees him approach the bar stand. 

“Could I get you a drink?” Jaehyun asks.

“Just a water would be fine,” the singer replies. He has a nice speaking voice, beautiful eyes, dark raven hair. They’re nearly the same height, Jaehyun notices. 

He orders a glass of water, pays for it and says, “I’m Jaehyun.”

“Doyoung,” the singer says. He accepts the water, drinks it in one go.

“You sing beautifully,” Jaehyun says.

“I would like to believe so,” Doyoung replies, confident, “considering you keep coming back here.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Your voice is magnetizing, what can I say.”

“You’re quite smooth,” Doyoung smiles. “What do you do, Jaehyun?”

“I write.”

“Ah, a novelist?” Jaehyun nods. “A romantic?”

“Not a hopeless one,” Jaehyun smiles. 

Surprisingly, Doyoung is easy to talk to. It must be because they’re close in age in between professions consisting of older people. 

“Would you like to get out of here, Doyoung?” Jaehyun suggests. Doyoung chuckles lightly. 

“I was waiting for you to ask,” Doyoung smiles. He says goodbyes to his colleagues and the staff, grabs his coat and follows Jaehyun out.

There’s something about Doyoung, Jaehyun can tell, that makes him feel that they’ll hit off instantly.

“Where are you taking me, Jaehyun?” Doyoung asks. They walk closely by each other, steps almost in sync. The sky is starry above them.

“I thought we could go to the beach,” Jaehyun suggests. 

—

Whenever Doyoung sends him flowers, Jaehyun picks out the smallest one from the bouquet and presses it into a bookmark. It’s a symbolic gesture, and Jaehyun has always been a fan of symbolism. Doyoung used to joke that Jaehyun thinks in literature, and it’s partially true, for he's a writer after all, hiatus or not. 

Jaehyun has an entire collection of these bookmarks by now, and it’s only growing. Doyoung had said, “With these flowers I give you a piece of my heart,” but at times it feels like Jaehyun has not a piece of it but the entire thing. 

“You should look into the language of flowers,” Yuta suggests over a cup of coffee during their lunch break. “You never know, there might be hidden messages behind those flowers.”

“I’m good at flower symbolism,” Taeyong says, voice kind. He’s visiting Yuta on set for the time being, and they’re attached by the hip. It’s wholesome, Jaehyun thinks, how they’re always together, immersed into each other no matter what people think of them. Yuta was never someone who wanted to settle down, but with Taeyong in the picture it looks like his plans have changed. Perhaps they really are growing old, even directors and movie producers. 

“Really?” Jaehyun asks. “I didn’t know it was a thing.”

“It is,” Taeyong says, smiling. “It’s very romantic. Very sweet.”

Jaehyun whirls the spoon on his mug, thinking about giving Doyoung a call and asking him about it. They all return to the set not long after. They’re filming by the sea today, near the cliffs. It’s cloudy today, but not cold. Ten is sitting in his black foldable director chair, a speaker in his hands and sunglasses perched on the top of his nose to hide the bags under his eyes. 

“Did you have a break?” Jaehyun asks him.

“If stretching for a minute counts.”

“That’s no good,”Jaehyun frowns. “Have you slept well today, at least?”

“I love it when you care about me,” Ten grins. “Yes, I did, don’t you worry. Today is a cloudy day, so my mood is damp, but I don’t want to drag the whole team down.”

“We all have our cloudy days,” Jaehyun says.

“We do, but there’s nothing we can do about them except wish for the sun to come. But enough of chitchat, let’s get back to work.”

Jaehyun watches as makeup artists re-apply a blush onto Sicheng’s cheeks again, how Ten sits back onto his black chair, how Yuta helps adjust the camera. There are around twenty people on set today, everyone having their roles and aims. Jaehyun often wonders where’s the need for him to be physically here since he doesn’t contribute much, but Ten insists authors are very much needed on set. 

“I can’t film this without you,” Ten says.

“It’s your movie,” Jaehyun argues. 

“But it’s _your_ book. This is your world, I’m just helping you make it.”

Jaehyun puts a hand on Ten’s shoulder. “I appreciate this a lot.” and Ten gives him a smile. “You know it’s nothing.”

They’re a little over half a year into production. It’s summer now, marking a year since Jaehyun stepped foot to France. A lot can happen in a year, Jaehyun thinks, one can gamble all of his money, one can find a new passion, or one can work on getting his life together. 

They wrap up filming at nine in the evening. Jaehyun thanks everyone for their hard work and after dinner gives Doyoung a call.

“Hello,” he says.

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung greets him, smiling through the telephone, “hi, how are you?”

“I was told flowers have meanings today,” Jaehyun says. “Have you been sending me secret messages all this time?”

“Maybe,” Doyoung laughs. “Would it change anything if I have?”

“I would say it’s quite sweet of you, and that I wish I had realized that sooner. Say, what do roses symbolize?”

“They have many meanings,” Doyoung replies. “Love, desire, joy.”

“What about lilies?” 

“Purity, thankfulness,” Doyoung’s voice sounds amused. 

“You sent me camellias this week. What do they symbolises?”

“Longing,” Doyoung answers. 

“Do you miss me?” Jaehyun asks, hopeful.

“You know I do.”

“As do I,” Jaehyun says, feeling fond. The last time they’d seen each other was months ago, back when Jaehyun had visited him in Paris. Jaehyun still remembers the way Doyoung had kissed him in the car in front of the airport. He says, “You should come here some time, it would be so nice. Did you know, the rocks on the beach are so big and so beautiful, they have these little crystals inside of them? I can't help but stare at them when we’re on set. If you come, I can show you to them. Then we could drive to Deauville, go to casinos there, go onto dates in Caen.”

Jaehyun can almost feel Doyoung smile, “That sounds so lovely. We haven’t been on dates in a very long time.”

Jaehyun hums. “We could change that.”

Doyoung laughs. “I’ve hired assistants for my flower shop, meaning I can leave it unattended for a long period of time. I could come to Étretat and stay until post-production. I want to be there for you.”

Jaehyun thinks. He thinks about summer brunches, evening dates under the sky, hikes to the cliffs, drives around Normandy, Doyoung beside him like back in the good old days. 

“I would love that,” Jaehyun says, “I would really love that.”

—

It’s two weeks later that Doyoung stays in the suite right next to Jaehyun’s. Jaehyun had picked him up from the train station and drove him to their hotel. Doyoung checked himself in and Jaehyun helped him with the luggage, and then Doyoung kissed him softly on the lips.

It always feels surreal to Jaehyun to have Doyoung in his arms like this after extended periods of time, whether if he’s just holding him or kissing him after so long, even if it’s just for a minute or a couple of seconds. And yet, Jaehyun is a human and humans are known for their greed, for being able to kiss Doyoung only in between him checking into his number is not enough for him. 

“It feels unusual seeing you in such a good mood,” Yuta comments on set.

“Is that a bad thing?” Jaehyun asks, amused.

“Not at all. Happiness is a good look on you,” Yuta says. 

Jaehyun smiles. He discusses the next scene with Ten not long after, Sicheng listening to them both. Jaehyun is glad that out of all actors, Sicheng is the one starring in this movie. Yes, they’re acquaintances, but Jaehyun didn’t think he’d see his face during casting. There’s something melancholic to both Sicheng and the protagonist of his novel, so Jaehyun had told Ten that Sicheng should get the main role. Ten had agreed instantly. Jaehyun catches Sicheng glance at him; he sends him a smile.

It’s been a long afternoon, and by the time they stop filming, the sun long has set. Jaehyun had watched it dip behind the horizon, leaving a colourful sunset behind, as well as a warm summer breeze. Jaehyun declines Ten’s suggestion of grabbing dinner in favour of going back to his suite. He takes a shower and changes into a new set of clothes, then goes to his balcony to relax. 

The moon is bright above the sea. Jaehyun watches its distorted reflection move in the water until he hears a voice. “Good evening,” Doyoung says from his balcony. 

Jaehyun’s lips quirk up. “Hey.”

“How was today?”

“Good,” Jaehyun says, moving closer to the edge of his balcony, closer to Doyoung’s. “We’re shooting the middle right now. It’s going smooth. Did you do anything today?”

“I went up the cliffs, to the church. Walked along until I saw a field of cows. Étretat is so nice, I can see why you like it.” Jaehyun can’t look away from the way the wind ruffles Doyoung’s hair. He looks so pretty like this in the moonlight, his raven hair shining blue. 

”Yuta told me the same thing,” Jaehyun laughs. Doyoung has his hands placed on the edge of the railing, and their balconies are so close, Jaehyun thinks he can reach out and interlock their fingers. It would be stupid, it would be a bit romantic, Jaehyun thinks. So he reaches out. Doyoung looks curiously at the gesture, but then his expression turns into a smile and he takes Jaehyun’s hand in his. 

Doyoung’s fingers are a little cold from having gripped the railing, but Jaehyun doesn’t mind.

“I’ve missed you,” Jaehyun says quietly into the night. 

“Have you eaten?” Doyoung asks, and Jaehyun feels him squeeze his hand. “If not, we can go to a restaurant.”

“Like a date?” Jaehyun teases.

“Like a date.” 

“Let’s go,” Jaehyun says, smiling. 

Doyoung lets go first with a nod and disappears into his suite. A few minutes later Jaehyun hears the bell by his door ring. Jaehyun lets Doyoung inside, who hastily closes the door and cups Jaehyun’s face to kiss him.

“This is quite a surprise,” Jaehyun murmurs. 

“There’s no one around at this hour so no one would notice if I came by,” Doyoung says. “Am I not welcome?”

Jaehyun places his hands on Doyoung’s waist. “You’re always welcome here.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Doyoung says against his lips. He corners Jaehyun against a wall. “I couldn’t hold myself back there anymore.” 

“What about dinner?”

“It can wait for a while,” Doyoung says. He places a hand behind Jaehyun’s neck, pulls him closer. “The world can wait.”

Jaehyun kisses him again. It’s sensual. They haven’t kissed like that in a long time. And yet, kissing Doyoung has always come so naturally to Jaehyun. Despite being apart for years Jaehyun still remembers all the sensitive spots on Doyoung’s neck, which places he has to lightly bite on to incite a breathy groan, he remembers that Doyoung likes to be kissed slowly, likes to tug on Jaehyun’s hair because he needs to occupy his hands somehow. All these details make Jaehyun which proves it harder to kiss.

Doyoung pulls away a little, “What’s gotten into you?”

“You haven’t changed,” Jaehyun says, “it’s nice, in a sense. You still kiss the same way.”

“So do you,” Doyoung says. He runs his tongue over Jaehyun’s bottom lip, then slips it inside his mouth. Jaehyun groans a little. It’s getting hot in the room. He pushes Doyoung towards his bed until Doyoung falls back onto the mattress and Jaehyun gets on top of him. Doyoung attaches his lips onto Jaehyun’s again, hands fumbling with the collar of Jaehyun’s shirt, in an attempt to unbutton it. 

Jaehyun presses light pecks to Doyoung’s jaw, then down to his neck up to his collarbone. It comes naturally too, all of Doyoung’s stuttered breaths, his hands roaming over Jaehyun’s torso, arms, back. It’s like they are one again, body and heart. Jaehyun doesn’t know for how long they’re kissing, he only notices some time has past when he feels his arm muscles burn a little. Then Jaehyun sees Doyoung smile again. Doyoung looks at him with softness in his wide eyes. He cups Jaehyun’s face with his cold hands and kisses his forehead, then temple, then nose. 

Jaehyun lets out a laugh and lies down beside him. There’s a fluttering in his chest that can’t seem to go away whenever Doyoung is kissing him. It’s a pleasant feeling, a feeling Jaehyun realises he’s missed. 

“The waves,” Doyoung murmurs, gently brushing away the hair out of Jaehyun’s eyes, “they’re so loud even from here.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Very calming. Even when it’s storming.”

“You know the myth of how if you put a seashell to your ear you’ll hear the sound of the sea?” Doyoung puts his ear to Jaehyun’s heart, “However in reality it’s just the sound around us? Like the flow of our blood.”

Jaehyun nods.

“It’s like we all have a bit of the sea inside of us.” Doyoung then sits up, fixes his hair with his hands and straightens his shirt. He looks at the clock on the other side of the wall and says, “Oh my, would you look at the time. Are any restaurants even open at this hour?”

“We can go to a bar,” Jaehyun says. “I know one that serves food as well as drinks.”

Doyoung nods. He takes Jaehyun by the hand to pull him up from the bed, then buttons the button on Jaehyun’s collar for him. 

“Looks like we got a little carried away,” he says quietly. 

Jaehyun lets Doyoung fix him up. It’s familiar, the way Doyoung’s hands fret over him, back when they were younger and Jaehyun had troubles tying his ties before going to important places.

Then Jaehyun remembers his dilemma from a year ago when he was preparing for the film festival. He asks, “Would you tie my ties for me again?”

It makes Doyoung laugh. “Of course.” He gives Jaehyun a short kiss and then walks to the door, waiting for Jaehyun to follow him. 

Jaehyun grabs a coat, wallet and his car keys. When they walk out of the suite, they keep a distance between them, as if they’re simply good friends only. They pass by one drunk man on the stairs and see two ladies chatting in the lobby. In the car Doyoung turns on the radio and reclines a little. It’s a peaceful ride. The car Jaehyun rented isn’t a cabriolet like Ten’s, but it’s still comfortable. 

The bar is not a long drive away, located in a neighbouring city. It’s dim and cozy, reminding a little of the bar Doyoung used to sing at. No matter where he goes, Jaehyun thinks, there will be one thing or another that will remind him of Doyoung. It used to be a curse a few years ago, now Jaehyun thinks of it as a blessing of sorts. Now it’s like a gentle reminder that Doyoung is around somehow, even if he’s physically in Paris. 

Doyoung orders dinner as well as some wine, as  
a treat. Besides low murmuring of people it’s fairly quiet in the bar. Jaehyun and Doyoung fall into conversation. 

“For how long will you be staying here?”

“A month currently,” Doyoung replies, “then I’ll go back for a bit to check on the shop. It won’t be long.”

Jaehyun hums. The wine warms his insides. “And then?”

“Then I’ll be staying until you finish filming.”

Jaehyun tilts his head. “And then?”

Doyoung grins, “Are you thinking this far ahead in the future?”

“Our future is sometimes all I can think about,” Jaehyun says. “Especially about what will happen after we release the movie. Will you go back to Paris, will I stay here or travel again?”

“You said you wanted to retire and move to the countryside.”

“Back then, with you, yes. But it’s too soon, isn’t it. I sometimes wonder about where we stand. Where do we stand, Doyoung?”

Doyoung thinks. His voice drops to a whisper. “We’re going out, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Jaehyun says, a smiling forming on his face. “I didn’t know.” 

Doyoung huffs. “Don’t tease.”

“Last time I asked you if you wanted to try again you said you didn’t know.”

“I know now.”

“Oh, do you?” Jaehyun’s hand finds Doyoung’s under the table. “And what would your answer be?”

“I do want to try again,” Doyoung replies quietly, but Jaehyun hears him loud and clear. He intertwines their fingers, and they slot together so naturally, like two pieces of a puzzle. “Of course I do. There’s no one else for me but you.”

Jaehyun can't shake off the lightness in his stomach for the rest of the night. 

—

Jaehyun sends off Yuta and Taeyong two weeks later to Milan. 

“Don’t miss us to much,” Yuta says, “I know it’ll be boring on set but we’ll be back before post-production.”

“Have fun in Italy,” Jaehyun tells them. “Send me a postcard and a souvenir.”

“We will,” Taeyong says. He and Yuta look good standing beside each other. Although in their thirties, they’re both extremely handsome and both look younger than they are. Taeyong’s arm is loosely hooked around Yuta’s. Both of them are a bit more open with their affections even in public, and neither of them mind. 

Jaehyun sometimes wonders how he and Doyoung look like to other people. They had gone up the cliffs together a day ago, breeze in their faces and sun warming the tops of their heads. It was nice; when no one was around, Jaehyun placed a kiss on Doyoung’s cheek. 

Then they went to the set, Ten having been excited to see Doyoung after so long. He had told him to visit them more often, and then gave Jaehyun a tight squeeze on the shoulder. 

On the weekend Jaehyun drives Doyoung to Deauville. They decide to go to a casino. They used to frequent casinos as a pastime when they were travelling, it was either a hit or miss, and they always made sure to never visit the same casino twice. 

“We haven’t gambled in Deauville, right?” Doyoung asks. 

“Right. You play poker, and I’ll play russian roulette,” Jaehyun says. “Let’s meet here in two hours.”

Doyoung nods. Jaehyun hasn’t gambled in a couple of years, but he’s sure luck didn’t leave his side. It just so happens that he manages to somehow win a thousand euros. Jaehyun gets his money and then sits beside Doyoung who’s immersed into the poker game. His opponent is a man in his late fifties, one with a lazy eye that looks like he’s done many illegal things. Another opponent sitting across of him is another man with a moustache and a cigar in his hands. Doyoung maybe younger out of all of them, but he knows how to bluff. 

Jaehyun grins when Doyoung reveals a straight flush and collects all the chips. Hem turns out Doyoung scored another grand.

“Today must be our lucky day,” Doyoung says, retrieving the money. 

“We need to check this casino off the list, we can’t ever gamble here again.”

Doyoung nods. “We should’ve worn something to hide our faces, now most likely other casinos will hear of us too.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Let’s get out of here then.”

They sit at the backseat of Jaehyun’s car and count the money in front of them. The euros smell like cigar and rich cologne, and Jaehyun doesn’t know what to do with them.

“We should spend it on something,” he suggests. “Do you think we can rent a yacht with this money for a month?”

Doyoung laughs. “And what do you want to do with a yacht?”

“We can take it across the Mediterranean. Italy, Spain, Turkey, Greece.”

“Hmm,” Doyoung contemplates. “Sounds appealing.”

“Just imagine,” Jaehyun says. “You, me, and champagne on the blue lagoons of Antalya. Imagine the orange sunsets, the blood red sunrises. It’s nearing July, too, so it’s getting hotter. In August the weather would be perfect for a yacht ride.”

“Romantic,” Doyoung grins. 

“Right? It would be perfect.”

“Perhaps next year, after your film,” Doyoung muses, “We could celebrate like this.”

“What about Paris?”

“I’m not in a hurry to go there,” Doyoung says. “Although, if I move, I wouldn’t be the same.”

“And Paris, too, wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Doyoung pulls Jaehyun in by the back of his neck and kisses him deeply. He instantly pries his mouth open, slips his tongue in. It’s hot, Jaehyun can feel the scotch Doyoung had in the casino. It’s bitter, but also a little sweet, the way Doyoung bites on his bottom lip lightly. 

It’s intoxicating, as well as a little familiar, the way Doyoung’s hands tangle themselves in Jaehyun’s hair, tugging and pulling and making him groan.

It wasn’t in Jaehyun’s plans to do things they always used to do together, but it somehow happens. The following week he takes Doyoung to another drive. They drive around the coast and wind up on an empty beach. It’s late at night, and the moon shines bright. 

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“At this hour?” Jaehyun teases.

“Why not?” Doyoung says. “It’s peaceful, there’s no one here.”

“Okay. You go ahead, I’ll get the towels.” 

He watches Doyoung walk towards the pier and strip, then submerges into water. His hair shines as he gets engulfed by the mellow waves. Jaehyun sits on the wooden pier, dips his legs into the sea, the towels beside him. 

“You should join me,” Doyoung says. 

“Is the water cold?”

“A little. But it gets warmer after a while.”

Jaehyun laughs and dives down. The water is colder than he expected, making him shiver. He’s too old to be swimming at midnight, he thinks, but a part of him enjoys it. Doyoung splashes waves at him and Jaehyun retaliates, and it escalates into them kissing. It’s salty, but also very nostalgic, the way Doyoung’s eyes glow in the moonlight. Jaehyun gets out of the water first after a while, and Doyoung follows. The chill hits them instantly when they’re on land, and Jaehyun rushes to dry Doyoung’s hair for him. Doyoung smiles at him. For a flicker of a moment, he looks ten years younger; they both are ten years younger, more lively, more eager.  
They’re not in Deauville, but somewhere else, to countless beaches they’ve been to. The setting itself is blurry, but Doyoung looks so vivid, his eyes are so full of love.

That moments passes when Jaehyun blinks. It’s dark again, Doyoung looks older, but his gaze is all the same.

—

Jaehyun is used to waking up alone, to having the bed all to himself, to have only a blanket as a source of warmth. So when he wakes to warmth pressed against his back, he can’t help but smile. It’s so familiar, the steady breathing of Doyoung lying asleep next to him, his breaths soft next to Jaehyun’s ear.

He doesn’t remember how he convinced Doyoung to stay the night, if he did. Perhaps it happened out of habit, routine, as they used to sleep on the same bed for years. It’s not like anyone can walk in on them, not that they have any nosy neighbours. The world doesn’t care whom Jaehyun spent the night with, at least not right now. 

It must be quite early into the morning judging by sunlight piercing through the curtains. Jaehyun turns around, so that he could face Doyoung chest to chest, and Doyoung murmurs a little in his sleep. It’s been so long since they shared a bed together. Jaehyun can’t help but feel a bit nostalgic.

Jaehyun takes in Doyoung’s sleeping expression, engraves it into his mind. Doyoung looks peaceful, a bit angelic, even. The novelist inside Jaehyun is overflowing with want to write about him.

He traces his fingertips gently over Doyoung’s face. First, he caresses his cheek his his thumb, then his fingers hover over Doyoung’s eyebrows, closed eyelids, the slope of his nose. Doyoung’s nose scrunches a little. 

“Tickles,” he murmurs. 

“Sorry,” Jaehyun says, hushed. He pulls his hand back.

Doyoung makes a noise. “Don’t stop.” He moves closer to Jaehyun. Jaehyun notices Doyoung wrap his arms around his waist. 

Jaehyun laughs, “Okay.”

Doyoung hums when Jaehyun’s hand brushes over his raven bangs again. Then it cups his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone. “Your touch is so gentle.” Doyoung says; he opens his eyes and looks at Jaehyun in a very fond way. 

Jaehyun leans in to kiss him. “Good morning,” he says.

“What time is it?” Doyoung asks. 

“Around nine.” A part of Jaehyun is dreading Doyoung coming to his senses and fleeing his suite, however Doyoung only hums and closes his eyes again. 

“You’re not leaving,” Jaehyun says.

“No. Should I?” Doyoung asks. He puts his hand on Jaehyun’s bicep. It’s warm, Jaehyun feels warm.

“No,” Jaehyun shakes his head. He pulls Doyoung closer, so that Jaehyun’s head is under Doyoung’s chin. Doyoung hugs him, one arm under Jaehyun’s head, another thrown over his waist. It feels so secure like this, so intimate. Doyoung strokes his hair, a habit that hasn’t changed. 

“This feels nostalgic, doesn't it?”

“It does,” Doyoung whispers into Jaehyun’s hair. “I’ve missed this.”

“So have I.” 

He must’ve fallen back asleep again, because by the time Jaehyun opens his eyes the room seems brighter. Doyoung is still in bed, sitting up and reading a newspaper. 

“Morning again,” Doyoung murmurs when he notices Jaehyun stir. 

“More like afternoon,” Jaehyun says. “Please don’t tell me I slept through filming.” 

“There’s no filming today,” Doyoung replies. “It’s a week off, remember? That’s why we went out late in the first place.”

“Great,” Jaehyun stifles a yawn. “Have you eaten?”

“No, I was waiting for you to wake up.” Doyoung folds the newspaper and puts it on the bedside table. He faces Jaehyun and puts a hand on his cheek. “I thought we could get lunch soon.”

“That sounds good,” Jaehyun leans in more into the touch. Sunlight hits his face but he doesn’t mind. It’s a tender gesture, one that Jaehyun has always liked. He feels young again.

“You glow so brightly, Jaehyun,” Doyoung says softly. He kisses Jaehyun’s forehead. “It puts the sun to shame.” 

—

Doyoung goes back to Paris for an unspecified time for tend to his shop at the end of the month. As soon as Jaehyun sends him off he feels a certain emptiness in the air, and he can’t fathom how he’d lived with it for six years and then another year when he and Doyoung saw each other sporadically. 

In the meantime they film in another location for two months. It’s not far, in Rouen. It’s a gorgeous medieval city, Jaehyun wishes Doyoung was with him. He and Ten spend a lot of time making changes to the script, making small adjustments. The movie itself isn’t too far off from the book, which Jaehyun appreciates, but the screenplay does have the flare Ten always adds to his works. Jaehyun likes it. When he’s not needed on set he walks through the cobblestone streets, admires the architecture, calls Doyoung. 

He gives Doyoung his new temporary address, and a few days later he receives a fresh bouquet of flowers. Lilies, this time. Perhaps distance may have its merits sometimes, Jaehyun thinks. 

It’s at lunch when Ten tells him, “Listen, I’ve been delaying it for quite some time now, but there are reporters who wish to talk about the production of the movie and they want to interview you as well.”

Jaehyun hums. “That’s quite sudden.”

“I’m just notifying you,” Ten says. “When we get back to Étretat, we can get interviewed. It won’t take too long.”

“I haven’t been exposed to the public eye for a while.”

“I know,” Ten sighs. “That’s why I’ve been telling them I’ll get back to them. I usually do a lot of interviews, they are good publicity.”

“I didn’t know you were looking out for them.”

“Which man would deny himself of a drop of fame?” Ten smiles. “It’s nice, sometimes, being praised, even if people don’t mean it. But when they do… that feels incredible. Ah, Jaehyun, you must know what I’m talking about, we’re both veterans here.” 

Jaehyun nods. “Yes, although I’d rather not attract any more attention to myself.”

“Don’t you worry,” Ten says. “The focus will be on Sicheng and I. You just sit there and smile and you’ll be fine.”

They drive back to Étretat several days later. Shootings are so tedious, Jaehyun realizes, so meticulous and tiring. How is Ten not burning out? Must be the passion. What else can drive a man forward? he thinks. 

The interview goes rather well. Jaehyun is asked questions strictly about the movie, to his relief. Ten does most of the talking with that customer service smile of his, explaining the plot and the inspiration and how he convinced Jaehyun to agree to film, which earns polite laughs from the interviewer. Then, when the attention turns to him, Jaehyun is asked about the book and his motifs for writing it. Jaehyun’s public speaking has become a little rusty over the years, but he manages. The woman thanks them for their hard work and they wrap it up after several more questions. 

Jaehyun is checked back into his old hotel, to the same suite with the view on the sea. He paces around the room for a while, thinks about having a drink, decides against it and draws a warm bath. After, he dials Doyoung’s number and listens to the telephone ring. Doyoung usually never picks up after more than five rings, he’s punctual like that. 

“Hello?” he says. 

Jaehyun tells him about his day, listens to Doyoung speak about his. It’s something he always looks forward to at the end of a busy week, to hear Doyoung’s voice and wish he were physically close.

“I’ve had an interview today,” Jaehyun tells him.

“Oh. How did it go?”

“Pretty good, I talked about the book and how production is going” Jaehyun says. Then, after some hesitation, “I thought that would be all yet I was also asked about my hiatus.”

“What did you say?”

“The usual excuse. Needing some time off from writing, searching for inspiration and all that.”

“The people have no idea,” Doyoung says.

“Eh,” Jaehyun chuckles, “what they don’t know won’t hurt them. It’s not a complete lie after all, now is it? I was also asked about my personal life.”

“Oh, now that is curious.”

“I said I don’t have anybody,” Jaehyun says quietly. “They didn’t ask further. You know, I can understand you. These types of questions… they make me feel so sad. A girlfriend, a wife... What does it matter to others? It’s my business only. Maybe I don’t want a girlfriend or a wife.”

“I know,” Doyoung says. 

Jaehyun lets out a sigh. “But it’s not like I can tell the interviewer I only want you.”

“No, unfortunately,” Doyoung says. “It’s better you don’t.”

Silence looms. “Come back soon,” Jaehyun changes the topic. “It’s so empty here without you. My bed is too big for one.”

He senses Doyoung smile. “I will, by the end of October. Then I’ll stay with you. You’re close to finishing the movie, right?”

“By New Years it’s expected time wrap up. Although I have a feeling we’ll be done by March. Ten always says we’ll finish early then makes us re-film entire scenes because he’s too much of a perfectionist,” Jaehyun laughs. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’ll be sure to make up for our lost time. How are the flowers?”

Jaehyun glances at the bouquet of tulips on his desk and smiles. “Beautiful as always,” he says. 

—

Autumn changes into winter, winter turns into spring. It’s the last day of filming, and Ten plans a party to celebrate the past months of hard work. He rents a villa for the night, a huge one even though his filming crew is modest, with a good view on the sea. It quite reminds Jaehyun of the party he hosted back in Cannes, which was already two years ago, if he thinks about it. 

A lot can happen in two years. Two years ago, Jaehyun was picking up fallen pieces after himself, not knowing what to do with his life. By chance, did he run into Yuta and get invited to watch his film in Cannes, and by chance did he spot Doyoung at the after party and then at Ten’s party again. Only by chance, did they have a talk and decide to start over again, and then by chance did Ten read his book and then suggest he makes a movie based off it, and now he’s here, opening a champagne bottle with a loud pop, the liquid spilling all over the floor, celebrating their movie being almost complete. 

There’s music in the villa, dancing, limousines – the basic recipe for a grand party, only Jaehyun doesn’t feel out of place this time. He’s the star of the evening, in a way, alongside Ten. 

“We did a pretty damn great job,” Ten grins, slinging an arm around him. “Don’t you think?”

“We did,” Jaehyun says. “Thank you, Ten, really. I don’t know what I would be doing if not for you.”

Ten waves him off. “Please, please. Don’t flatter me. It was a pleasure working with you. Now what’s left is finalising some last scenes and then I’ll send it to the film festival.”

“Next year?”

Ten nods. “We’ll premiere it next year. Sounds great, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Welcome back, Jaehyun,” Ten says, a smiling never leaving his face. He pats Jaehyun on the back firmly. Right now, in the middle of the ballroom, he shines. “The world of writing and cinema will suck you back in sooner or later. It’s only a matter of time.”

Jaehyun laughs, the champagne in his hands almost spilling over, “Thank you again.”

“Don’t just stand there,” Ten says. “Go and dance! Doyoung, come over here, whisk Jaehyun away.”

Doyoung doesn’t hesitate and takes Jaehyun by the hand. He links their arms and drags him to the dance floor. A mellow waltz plays, and Doyoung puts one hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder and another one on his waist. In return, Jaehyun pulls him close and puts his head on his shoulder. 

They slow waltz for a while. It reminds Jaehyun of the masquerade party he and Doyoung ended up dancing on. 

“Two years ago, we weren’t on speaking terms,” Jaehyun murmurs.

Doyoung hums. “Look at us now.”

“Now I have you close to me.”

Doyoung cups Jaehyun’s cheek. “We’ve both come bar. You have come far. Your eyes are so lively again and your smile is so beautiful. You’re so beautiful, Jaehyun. How lucky am I?”

Jaehyun laughs, loud and carefree, “I’m the lucky one here.”

“We both are lucky then,” Doyoung concludes.

Jaehyun cups his cheek. “I can’t thank you enough, Doyoung. I was unfair to you by leaving and never contacting you for years, and yet you were there for me with your phone calls and visits and weekly flowers,” Jaehyun says. “They’re little things, but they helped me so much. You helped me so much.”

Doyoung leans into the touch. “It’s because I love you irrevocably. I would do just about anything to see you smile this brightly and you perfectly know that.”

Jaehyun doesn’t mind the people around him and presses a kiss to Doyoung’s lips, his heart flipping and bursting all at once. “What do you say we get out of here?”

“I quite like the sound of that,” Doyoung smiles.

Jaehyun hails a cab. He and Doyoung sit far apart, although Doyoung’s hand rests on Jaehyun’s thigh. The touch burns, and Jaehyun can’t ignore it. The cab arrives not long after. Jaehyun gives the driver a large bill without asking for change and pulls Doyoung by the hand to the hotel. They keep their distance as they walk to Jaehyun’s suite, but once Jaehyun closes the door to the room, Doyoung immediately presses Jaehyun down on his bed. 

“Eager, aren’t we,” Jaehyun laughs.

“Don’t speak,” Doyoung murmurs. “Take off this tie already.”

“I might need help with that.”

Doyoung huffs out a laugh, but takes it off nonetheless. His fingertips brush against Jaehyun’s neck, leaving sparks in their wake, and Jaehyun shivers. Doyoung’s gaze melts from teasing to something more serious, and after he discards the tie he starts unbuttoning Jaehyun’s blouse.

“Take off your blazer, too.”

“Kiss me first.”

Doyoung cups his cheeks and leans down to kiss him slowly, like he savours every moment of it. Jaehyun thinks he could never get tired of this: Doyoung kissing him, Doyoung straddling him, Doyoung, Doyoung. Jaehyun deepens the kiss, opens his mouth. Doyoung sucks lightly on his tongue, pulls on his hair. It’s hot, the room is unbearably hot even despite the air conditioning. Jaehyun takes off Doyoung’s blazer for him, gets rid of his shirt. 

Doyoung’s body is lean and his muscles are firm. He must’ve started working out more over the years. Jaehyun runs his hands over his biceps, arms, torso. He feels goosebumps and it makes him grin. He takes off his own upper clothing, and the room becomes less hot for a second, but then Doyoung is lying on top of him again, their chests touching, and Jaehyun feels aflame.

Doyoung presses kisses to his neck, light and teasing. 

“Are you going out anywhere over the next couple of days?” he asks.

“No,” Jaehyun murmurs.

“Good.” Doyoung nips at the skin on his neck, then bites it. Jaehyun finds himself gasping a little at the sensation. It will surely bruise by morning, but Jaehyun doesn’t care. Doyoung keeps on biting and sucking love bites onto his neck, and Jaehyun finds it harder to hold back a groan.

“Don’t be quiet,” Doyoung whispers. “I know you like receiving hickeys.”

“You have good memory,” Jaehyun finds it difficult to reply. 

“Of course I do,” Doyoung says. “I remember everything about. All your sensitive spots.” He sucks hard behind Jaehyun’s ear, and Jaehyun sighs. “You’re still sensitive here, aren’t you?”

Jaehyun reaches out a hand and brushes his hand over Doyoung’s nipple, making his breath hitch. “I remember everything about you, too.”

“Good,” Doyoung composes himself. “That’s good.”

“How could I forget?” Jaehyun asks. “Ever? When there has been no one like you. There’s no one for you but me.”

“Really?” Doyoung licks his lips. “Show me.” 

Jaehyun kisses him, hard and forceful. Their tongues slide messily, open mouthed and hot. “I’ve never kissed anyone else but you,” Jaehyun breathes out. “I’ve never loved anyone like this but you.”

Doyoung pulls back slightly. Their noses brush. “Like what? Tell me.”

Jaehyun tucks in a stray strand of hair behind Doyoung’s ear. “Like walking you home every day after the bar, or cooking you dinner when you’re hungry even though it’s two in the morning, or asking us to move in together even though we’ve been going out for only several months. Or having you as my muse, the inspiration behind many of my novels. Or buying a ring for you. Wanting to spend my life with you. Doyoung, you‘re a fundamental part of me. I simply can’t exist without you. It’s just not possible.” 

“You have a wonderful way with words,” Doyoung says, gives him a kiss.

“Well, I am a writer,” Jaehyun smiles. “I might know a thing or two.” 

“You don’t know what you do to me, Jaehyun.” Doyoung’s are glistening. “I’ve been waiting to love you all night.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Jaehyun asks. 

Doyoung trails kisses down Jaehyun’s body. First his chest, then his nipples. He swirls his tongue around one and with his fingers pinches the other, and Jaehyun almost arches his back. Then Doyoung kisses his stomach until he gets to his trousers. The kisses are all tender. almost innocent, until Doyoung pulls his trousers down and then takes them off completely. He continues kissing the inside of Jaehyun thighs, and when he bites on the skin Jaehyun lets out a loud gasp and pulls Doyoung up.

“Too much?” Doyoung asks.

“A little,” Jaehyun says. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Doyoung presses their foreheads together. “That’s a very rewarding thing to say. I like it when your brain turns to mush because of me.”

“God, Doyoung, just kiss my lips.”

Doyoung complies. He takes off his own trousers and then lies back down. Jaehyun rolls them over, slides his tongue into his mouth. Doyoung isn’t very vocal, but he’s left breathless when Jaehyun bites on his earlobe. Jaehyun didn’t lie when he’s said he remembers everything about Doyoung. All the little things, all the big things, he’s never forgotten any. It’s beautiful, the way Doyoung’s back arches, the way his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat and his his eyes glisten from getting worked up. Jaehyun brings a hand to their hard lengths and swallows down each of Doyoung’s moans, kisses him senseless. 

“Do you want to take this further?” Doyoung asks and Jaehyun nods. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun breathes out. 

“We can stop if it hurts too much.”

Jaehyun gives him a look. “Doyoung, please.”

“Okay. I’ll be gentle.” Doyoung gives him another kiss. His fingers work him open slowly, tenderly, Jaehyun can’t hold himself back from grunting, and when Doyoung rocks slowly inside of him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, Jaehyun’s moans get tuned out by the waves. 

—

Jaehyun steps out of the limousine onto the red carpet. He’s instantly greeted with paparazzi and blinding lights right in his face, and he puts on a smile for them. He walks past them to catch up to Ten, who sends him a wave. They get photographed for a while.

“You finally made it,” Ten says quietly in between the shutters going off. 

“I wouldn’t bail on my own premiere,” Jaehyun answers. Honestly, he never thought he’d attend the annual film festival any time soon after the invitation Yuta sent him nearly three years ago, but life is full of surprises. He was the one who sent Yuta an invitation this time, and Yuta was more than happy to come. 

Ten laughs. “I did it once. Caused quite a stir, but I wasn’t bothered. Come on, let’s go.” 

They walk inside the movie hall. It’s full of people and quiet chatters, however the seat to Jaehyun’s right is empty. After the lights dim, Jaehyun feels someone sit next to him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Doyoung whispers into his ear. He slides his fingers into Jaehyun’s awaiting hand and squeezes it tenderly. 

“Where’ve you been?”

“Was arranging a bouquet for you. Lost track of time.”

Jaehyun breaks out into a grin and presses a kiss to Doyoung’s hand. Doyoung shifts to hand Jaehyun a huge bouquet of flowers. It’s heavy and even with low lighting, it looks beautiful. “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to, today is a big day.”

“Shh,” Jaehyun hushes him. “The movie is starting.” 

There’s something fulfilling about watching something you worked hard on be turned into something beautiful. Jaehyun feels Doyoung rest his head on his shoulder and he feels content. When the movie credits roll around, the hall is filled with endless applauses. As Ten promised, the movie becomes a success, set to be shown all around the world. 

A positive reaction is not something Jaehyun expects, but it’s something he welcomes. He gets approached by movie and book critics at the after party, all of them praising Jaehyun, calling him one of the best contemporary writers of the decade. He gets flooded with questions by interviewers about his next book, asked if he’s working on anything currently, to which Jaehyun smiles and says he’ll start writing again soon. A reporter compliments the bouquet in his arms, and Jaehyun laughs, saying it’s from a very special person. 

He finally manages to get some air to breathe after the last reporter decides to interrogate Yuta instead. Jaehyun sends him a sympathetic wave and seeks out Doyoung in the crowd. While looking for him, he comes across Kun and Sicheng. They all exchange hugs and engage in small talk. Kun tells Jaehyun about how much he loved the movie, and Jaehyun thanks him honestly. It’s nice, for a change, to be proud of his own work. After they part ways Jaehyun spots Johnny with his partner, and then he sees Taeil with his family. 

Jaehyun talks with all of them and briefly thinks about how the tables have turned for him. He went from having everything to having nothing to having everything again. Friends, success, love – he gained them once again. Now Jaehyun realises he wants to hold onto what's important and not let go.

“How are you feeling?” Ten slides up to his side again. It’s funny, Jaehyun thinks, how three years ago Ten was a distant stranger he admired and found intimidating, and now they’re great friends. Life works in mysterious ways.

“I’m good. I’m just looking for Doyoung.”

“I see,” Ten smiles his way. “I think he’s by the balconies. Go run to him, he must be waiting for you. 

“Thanks, Ten,” Jaehyun replies, and Ten gives him a smile.

He finally finds Doyoung in a secluded spot by a window with a flute of champagne in his hands. Jaehyun plucks out one from a waiter’s tray for himself and stands beside Doyoung.

“Busy, aren’t we, Mr. Jeong?” Doyoung says, smiling. “I saw you getting swarmed with people.”

“I was looking for you everywhere,” Jaehyun breathes out. “I’m all free now at last. How did you find the movie?”

“Beautiful. Ten never disappoints. You don’t either.”

Doyoung looks beautiful tonight, like he always does. Up from when they first met, fast forward to today, he still manages to take Jaehyun’s breath away. He looks more grown than the young singer Jaehyun laid his eyes on in the underground bar, his eyes are wiser and his face has matured with time, but he’s still so gorgeous.

Jaehyun shifts closer, puts the bouquet on the windowsill. He wraps an arm around Doyoung’s waist. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course, you guys really outdid yourselves with it.” Doyoung’s voice tunes out the crowd inside the room. He must possess a magical power, Jaehyun thinks, because somehow Doyoung is capable of making Jaehyun focus on him only. Doyoung leans in more to Jaehyun’s side. It’s serene like this, Doyoung being pressed close to him, his lips near Jaehyun’s neck, his arms around his side. For a second Jaehyun wonders what it would be like to have Doyoung close to him forever, and then he remembers. 

“I still have the ring with me,” Jaehyun whispers into his ear. 

Doyoung’s breath hitches. “What?”

“From back then, you know. I never sold it.”

“Jaehyun, you…”

“I couldn’t give it away either. It was meant only for you.”

Doyoung is speechless. He looks at him with glassy eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot. What it would be like to have forever with you. Nine years have passed since we broke it off and got together again and I still want it with you,” Jaehyun fiddles with Doyoung’s ring finger. “So what do you say, Doyoung? Would you want to spend your life with me?”

“I would,” Doyoung says quietly, surely. There’s a slight tremble in his voice, but not from hesitation. It must be from the surprise. “I do, Jaehyun. Always.”

Jaehyun leans in to kiss him, intertwining their hands together. “I’m so glad.”

He takes out a velvet ring box from the inside of his blazer. He slides the silver ring onto Doyoung’s finger. It fits perfectly, and Jaehyun can’t help but kiss it, and then Doyoung’s hand, and then the ring again. Doyoung cradles his cheek. It’s quiet in the area, the crowd is far away and only the sound of waves can be heard and seen. Jaehyun glances at the sea from the window, at how the tides pull back and forth, foaming at the shore, a storm almost brewing. 

He kisses Doyoung, and tastes the sea itself. Salty, fresh, alluring. The salt must have come from Doyoung’s tears, or his own, he doesn’t know. Only when Doyoung opens his eyes does Jaehyun see that they’re like the waves he loves so much. Endlessly blue.

**Author's Note:**

> this is very loosely influenced by evening in byzantium by irwin shaw but,, very loosely
> 
> also while i was writing this i was listening to ryo fukui’s a letter from slow boat, and i think it really fits the mood of the fic (especially sonora!)


End file.
